


Alex X Kara Tumblr fics

by misslowercasek (xavacid)



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Musing, one shots, tumblr ficlets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:46:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 27,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8444590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xavacid/pseuds/misslowercasek
Summary: collection of Kalex tumblr musing. (I am posting this on behalf of daretogobeyondtheunknown) She is also now on ao3 and started posting her own stuffs. (yay!)





	1. Kara, that is not a word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kara, that is not a word.”
> 
> “It is!”
> 
> Alex glowered, tapping her index finger against the board pointedly, “Kara, Kryptonian vernacular are not words.” Gesturing to the rule book, Alex stressed, “The symbols don’t even match!”

“Kara, that is _not_ a word.”

“It is!”

Alex glowered, tapping her index finger against the board pointedly, “Kara, Kryptonian vernacular are not words.” Gesturing to the rule book, Alex stressed, “The symbols don’t even match!”

“Phonetically it does,” Kara hummed, dancing in her chair as she tallied the high scoring word.

“But only you can legitimize that!”

Clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, Kara smiled, “You can too - I saw you practicing the other day with my mo- the A.I.” Kara scrunched her nose as she stumbled over her words, “And if I can’t use Kryptonian, you can’t use words with diacritics or- or-” Kara squinted. It wasn’t easy to read the board upside down, “Ste… stern… sternutate? Who even says that?”

“I do!” Alex huffed as she leaned back in her chair - arms crossed and pout laid on thick, “And just because it’s a diacritic doesn’t mean it can’t be played.”

“You’re just a sore loser,” smirked Kara as she danced her scorecard to and fro for Alex to see.

“Whatever. Cheater.”

“Whatever. PoutyMcPouty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://misslowercasek.tumblr.com/post/145260467462/kara-that-is-not-a-word-it-is-alex)


	2. Potato Leek Soup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What is it?”
> 
> Scanning the recipe for the hundredth time, Kara said, “Potato leek soup?” It sounded more like a question than a statement.

“What is it?”

Scanning the recipe for the hundredth time, Kara said, “Potato leek soup?” It sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Kara, I’ve had potato leek soup,” Alex quipped, pointing to the bubbling concoction, “ _That_ is not potato leek soup. That is more like double, double, toil and trouble.”

Kara stepped back - spatula raised en garde, body shielding Alex - as the liquid formed an unruly looking bubble, “Really? I would have thought it looked more like a Fauvism influenced masterpiece.”

Alex snorted. “Really Kara?” Peering over Kara’s shoulder to the hazardous material cooking on the stove, Alex smirked, “Guess this proves my suspicions: you are out of this world. My mere mortal body couldn’t possibly sustain itself on a Fauvism diet.”

“Hey!” Gunk from the spatula flew in all directions as Kara waved the brew covered utensil. Kara pointedly ignored the look of sheer disgust that sprouted on Alex’s face when a rather large glob landed on her cheek. “Serves you right.” She mumbled with a pout, “See if I do anything nice for you ever again.”

“I’m not sure I’d call trying to poison me something nice but I appreciate the sentiment.” Alex stepped toward Kara with open arms and a devious curl to her lips, “Now, come here my Fauvist.”

“Alex,” Kara warned as she stepped back, spatula extended again en garde, “Don’t -”

Ignoring the looming threat Alex lunged. Superior speed or not, Alex knew Kara would never move. Kara always caught her.

“Alex!” Kara squealed as her arms wrapped securely around Alex’s midsection. “Ugh you’re so gross!”

Alex cackled as she rubbed her cheek against Kara’s, “I thought you said it was a masterpiece?”

“In the pot!” Kara whined as she made a show of sticking her tongue out in disgust.

Tightening her grip and leaning further into Kara, Alex allowed her shrug to be felt not seen, “An artist never grouses over the dirty. It’s part and parcel, par for the course, all-”

“I get it,” Kara groaned falling back with Alex dramatically. Kara never truly _fell_ \- her body always hovering just above the ground - but the action never failed to draw a gasp of surprise or even a squeak from Alex. It made Alex’s heart beat in a way Kara could _feel_ against her skin; strong, vivacious, alive.

“Real mature Kara,” Alex griped into Kara’s collar unable to shift without falling.

“But you love me,” Kara sing-songed as she held them above the ground, tapping the wooden spoon against Alex’s back, “You really love me. You-”

The blaring screech of the fire alarm filled the apartment space and a thick black smoke emanated from the stovetop, “No!” Kara cried, ensuring Alex was safely on the opposite side of the room before rushing the stove to exhale a chilling breath.

Shoulders slumped Kara looked down at the frosty surface of the stove and the remnants of the attempted dinner encased in its arctic coffin. If Kara hadn’t used her x-ray vision she would have sworn the Fauvism inspired masterpiece was still smoldering away, tucked beneath the thick ice and deprived of all oxygen. “Double, double, toil and trouble,” Kara mumbled, yelping in surprise when Alex emerged at her side.

“So…”

“So… I hear Chicago serves great food this time of night?”

“Anywhere but this kitchen serves great food right now Kara,” Alex corrected, pressing her lips to Kara’s cheek. “Chicago sounds fantastic though.”

In defeat, Kara trudged toward her Supergirl attire, picking at the brilliantly red cape sullenly. “Chicago _is_ fantastic but so am _I_.” If Kara stomped her foot, she hadn’t meant to. 

Alex hummed as she tugged a clean shirt over her head. Making her way back to Kara’s side, Alex offered a warm smile, “Out of this world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/145466900898/what-is-it-scanning-the-recipe-for-the)


	3. It had been nearly twelve hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara felt weak.
> 
> It had been nearly twelve hours since they’d stumbled across the cavern and nearly fourteen since they’d been separated from the other D.E.O. agents.

Kara felt weak.

It had been nearly twelve hours since they’d stumbled across the cavern and nearly fourteen since they’d been separated from the other D.E.O. agents.

Normally, it wouldn’t have been any trouble. But as Kara heard the rain fall, flat and unclear; felt the chill of the night air; heard the low uneven breathing of Alex’s prone form in a way that felt one dimensional, Kara knew. Her cells felt weak - _normal_ \- and Kara had never felt more helpless.

“Hey,” Alex rasped, drawing Kara from her internal musings, “This isn't… your fault.” The words were stinted, laced with lead and bubbling to the surface.

Kara hid the tears that trailed down her cheeks. “I know,” Arguing was pointless. Kara knew Alex would fight until her last breath on the matter and Kara couldn’t have that. She wouldn’t.

Unclasping the ties that fastened the red cloak to her shoulders, Kara cautiously wrapped the shivering form.

“N-no- Kar-”

Kara settled down onto the small rock and dirt covered floor, nestling into Alex’s uninjured side, “Just this once.” The lump in Kara’s throat grew as the uneven breathing became tangible against her skin and through her body. “Please?”

Time passed in silence. Kara lost track somewhere between the heavy scent of iron that filled the space as Alex choked out bloody bile and the full body tremors that took hold.

At some point, Kara swore she heard Alex’s heart stop. It made Kara’s stop too.

Kara couldn’t remember when she heard it: J’onn, Lucy. It felt odd: out of body, like a hallucination. But then there was warmth and emptiness. Kara prayed Alex was safe.

-

Her tongue felt rough, like sandpaper against the roof of her mouth. It was like when she was five and Kara had contracted a rare infection that left her bedridden for six nights.

“Lucy said you owe her a beer.”

With the lids of her eyes too heavy, Kara groped blindly in the direction of the sound. It was warm like an elixir, gifted by Rao. “Alex.” Kara croaked out, the taste of iron rolling down the back of her throat as the name slipped out.

“It’s me,” Alex affirmed, offering a gentle squeeze and tight lipped smile Kara couldn’t see. “They found us. You broke Lu’s thumb when they tried to separate us.”

Kara winced.

“She doesn’t blame you,” Alex continued, tracing her thumb over the back of Kara’s hand, “She’s just an extortionist. An aspiring alcoholic.”

It was meant in good humour, meant to make her laugh, but all Kara managed was a choked sob and pitiful whimper, “Alex, I- are you-”

“Yeah, I’m good. It hurts, but I’m still here. You’re still here.”

It hurt. Every muscle in her body felt laced with kryptonite. Her eyes felt weak, bleary and unfocused. It hurt but was nothing compared to the gaping chasm rooted in her chest; a perfect Alex sized hole.

“Kara. Don’t.”

As she struggled blindly towards the stuttering breath and words ushering her back, Kara knew nothing but the sound of Alex’s voice and the way her body drew breath.

Contrary to her words, Alex accepted Kara with open arms. The bed felt uncomfortable and far too small for two grown adults but the way she molded in like a second skin, Kara knew they would fit.

“Alex?”

“Hm?”

Selfish words boiled beneath the surface - words like ‘don’t leave me’ and ‘don’t ever do that again’ - and Kara had to clamp down on her tongue to prevent them from escaping. It was selfish, words and sentiments only for her. Words never meant to ease Alex.

“I love you, you know that right? More than anything?”

The warm lips that pressed to her brow brought a smile to Kara’s lips and flutter to her chest.

“So I’ve heard.” Even without sight, Kara could sense the quirk of Alex’s brow and the upward curl of the corner of her mouth. “I love you too, Ka-ra.” The tremor and slight choking where Kara’s indication of the shifting emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/147788917223/kara-felt-weak-it-had-been-nearly-twelve-hours)


	4. The accusation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You lied to me.”
> 
> The accusation hung heavy, laced with a venom that was foreign between them.

“You lied to me.”

The accusation hung heavy, laced with a venom that was foreign between them.

“Kara, I-”

“No, you don’t get to talk,” Kara glowered, smacking the extended arm aside. “You don’t get to… I trusted you.” Teary eyed, Kara exclaimed, “With everything! How- how could you?”

How could she? Alex wanted to ask herself the same question - demand her inner self explain. But the words fell short. She knew why. And Alex hated herself all the more.

Slumping back into the embrace of the barren concrete walls, Alex allowed her gaze to slip skyward. The white speckled ceiling hung exposed and in silence above her; kindred spirits.

Kara’s sobs cut through her body in a way no weapon ever could and with each choked intake, Alex winced. She never wanted this and yet here they were.

Gathering her strength - physical and mental - Alex dug the tips on her fingers into the cool unyielding surface of the concrete, “I can leave,” the words stung like bile as they slipped past her lips, “If that’s what you’d like.”

Head tipped back, shame burning behind the lips of her closed eyes, Alex missed the swirl of emotions swimming in Kara’s own eyes: anger, hurt, confusion. She missed the clenched fists and rigid back her words created.

Teeth clenched, Kara retorted, “That wouldn’t be anything new. You’re always running.”

The words stung but Alex knew just how true they were, “I- what do you want me to do, Kara?”

“Stop lying to me!”

It seemed so simple. And yet deep in her chest, Alex felt the tendrils of fear wrapped so tightly it made her gasp. 

Knees giving way, Alex allowed her body to sink to the ground. A slow, cold, descent. “Kara, I ca-”

“Yes you can!” Kara screamed, fingers threading through her long locks in frustration, “Stop lying to me. You can; you just won’t!”

The words hit like steel pole to her unsuspecting midsection and Alex was breathless. No matter how hard she tried - how many gasps she took - nothing filled her lungs. Kara was right, she could. She _could_ choose to do differently. She _could_ choose to change. 

“If you leave,” Shoulders slumped in defeat, Kara whispered, the quiver in her voice as palpable as the breeze on a cool autumn night, “I don’t think you should come back.”

But _would_ she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/148569565808/you-lied-to-me-the-accusation-hung-heavy)


	5. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Kara had first met the Danvers, sleep had been difficult.

When Kara had first met the Danvers, sleep had been difficult.

The mattress beneath her body was nothing like Krypton or even the space within her pod. Kryptonian technology allowed for the material to mask and mold like a second skin. It calculated the appropriate pressures and necessary points the body needed to find comfort. Earth’s mattress were solid, unmoving, and Kara found more comfort and give on the living room floor or the green grass outside.

On most nights, it wasn’t uncommon for the Danvers to find Kara curled up outside, back pressed to the porch or sprawled between the couch and coffee table, staring up at the roof in longing.

The Danvers had made numerous attempts to help Kara transition to the new feel - adding extra blankets, creating mountains of pillows - but nothing felt the same and each night, shroud in darkness, Kara sought the closest comforts to Krypton.

Two months on Earth, Kara discovered Alex’s arms were greater than any grass, rug, blanket or pillow.

Fourteen years later, as Kara allowed Alex to lead her through her own living room - stripping her of the crest of El, of the burden of the blue cloth and red cape - Kara realised Krypton had never felt like this.

Under her sheets, Alex’s arms wound about her waist and the warmth of her body seeping through Kara’s skin like sunlight to her cells, Kara felt a level of safety that compared to none. Not in the arms of her mother or the comforts of her Krypton bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/149417036862/comfort)


	6. call me kryptonite, call me strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex groaned, stumbling to a halt at the foot of her bed, “You can’t keep doing this, Kara.”
> 
> Peering out from the duvet cocoon, Kara offered a sheepish smile, “Just tonight?”

Alex groaned, stumbling to a halt at the foot of her bed, “You can’t keep doing this, Kara.”

Peering out from the duvet cocoon, Kara offered a sheepish smile, “Just tonight?”

The response was meek; timid. Alex would never say no. Kara was her Kryptonite.

Shedding the leather jacket that clung to her like a second skin, Alex tugged at the nearest corner of the steel grey comforter, “Just tonight,” echoed Alex, pressing her cold toes against the exposed skin of Kara’s legs.

“Hisss, Alex!” whined Kara, the shiver that ran down her spine more learned than a felt discomfort.

“You are the one who flew across the country to crawl into my bed,” Alex answered, shuffling towards the center of the mattress and opening her arms expectantly, “And you’re pretty much a living furnace anyways.”

Burrowing into the open embrace, Kara nuzzled her nose against to the smooth expanse of Alex’s collar and snorted, “Geez, thanks Alex.”

“Shhh my living furnace,” murmured Alex, voice slurring from exhaustion and perhaps a little too much alcohol, “Less talking more sleeping.”

Kara listened to way Alex’s erratic beating heart slowed and the inhalation and exhalation steadied. Absently, her thumb painted unseen patterns across the inside of Alex’s wrist.

Alex had become the home Kara thought she would never regain.

The smell of cigarettes, whiskey and perspiration clung to Alex like an identity Kara didn’t know. Mixed somewhere beneath all of it, Kara smelt the faintest trace of apples; familiarity.

Watching the rhythmic rise and fall of Alex’s chest, the tension Kara had been carrying melted.

Whether Alex had intended it or not, she had become Kara’s buffer; at home, in school, in public. Kara had never noticed the true extent of it until Alex had packed her things and moved away from the space of their shared room.

Tucked in the security of Alex’s arms, the constant hum of voices couldn’t follow; the sympathetic eyes couldn’t see; and Eliza’s stifling concern couldn’t suffocate.

Kara could finally breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/151383386630/call-me-kryptonite-call-me-strength)


	7. hold me, this world won’t last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara waited for the blade to slip between her ribs, bringing with it a wildfire that would spread through her very veins; a destruction from the inside out.

Kara waited for the blade to slip between her ribs, bringing with it a wildfire that would spread through her very veins; a destruction from the inside out.

But it never came and when Kara dared to open her eyes, her heart wept with despair.

Beads of sweat trailed from Alex’s brow down the expanse of smooth skin and off the edge of a jaw Kara epitomized with strength, regality, and yet so very humble.

She was fighting – an internal war Kara could not fight. She was trembling and shaking and Kara wanted nothing more than to burrow into her, to chase away the poison that consumed her. 

“A-Alex?” She could not move, paralyzed by the gravity this child of Earth’s yellow sun seemed to emit.

Alex was a most glorious and noble planet, and Kara was the moon caught in its orbit.

“Ka-ra-,“ each syllable was laced with a pain Kara had never wanted Alex to feel; a pain that sounded a lot like helplessness and devastation, “Run!”

Tears clouding her eyes and a thunderous clap in her chest, Kara felt caught in a torrential storm with no shelter and no way home. Alex was home, “No,” drifted past her lips, the unspoken promise of eternal devotion, “I won’t leave you; I can’t.”

A life without Alexandra Danvers, Kara knew, was not life.

The life she had once lived, calm and peaceful on Krypton, was gone. The life trapped in the Phantom Zone – time at a standstill – had resumed; hit fast forward. Life on Earth began the moment Kara had gazed up, meeting the pair of stormy dark eyes flecked with gold that she would soon learn belonged to the center of her life in this world.

“Don’t be stupid,” Alex begged, fighting with every fiber of her being against the control Non held over her.

An airy laugh bubbled in her chest and with trembling fingers, Kara brushed away the tears that mind control could not stop, “Wasn’t I always?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/152337998299/hold-me-this-world-wont-last)


	8. the cold, the cumbersome, the jubilant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For as long as Alex could remember, Midvale had been home. It had been sunny skies, open coastline and green winters.

For as long as Alex could remember, Midvale had been home. It had been sunny skies, open coastline and green winters.

“Come on, Alex!” Kara urged, “Please?”

This was not home and it was certainly no green winter.

“If I didn’t love you, I’d leave you right now,” Alex grumbled as she allowed herself to be tugged forward.

The cold had never phased Kara. It was like the ability to feel the shifting of temperature was muted and not for the first time, Alex wished it was an ability Kara could somehow share. Or at least share in the eternal misery that Alex saw the cold to be.

No, instead she had to dance about - a skip in her step, a twirl under their joined hands - her lips beaming, “It isn’t that bad,” the words tumbling out in a jumbled mess as Kara extended her tongue towards the falling flakes.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over my teeth battling one another and my body convulsing,” mumbled Alex with the roll of her eyes. In her current state, Alex honestly looked more penguin than human, what with her thermal, sweater, fall liner and fluffy feather down. All that was missing was the ability to slide about with ease.

An unnaturally large mound of snow fell atop her head, trickling down a small opening at the back of her neck, “Kara!” Alex screamed.

The laughter was loud, boisterous and only semi-apologetic.

“Start praying to Rao,” Alex threatened, teeth chattering, “Because no one else will save you!”

Dodging the first attack, Kara beamed brighter than the sun, her laughter warm and rich, “Just try and catch me!” she taunted, sticking her tongue out.

What Kara didn’t expect was the cold compacted ball of snow that collided with her forehead or the triple assault that hit her shoulder, chest and torso.

“Alex!”

Or the fluffy penguin like human propelling her own body as a human missile, sending both toppling into the snow.

“How did you-” Kara said breathlessly, cocooning the wriggling dark mass in a super hold hug.

“Kick your ass so efficiently while virtually being the human model of a marshmallow?” Alex asked with a smug pride, “Please, I picked fighting aliens as a full time hobby, Kara. Or did you forget that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/152971681161/the-cold-the-cumbersome-the-jubilant)


	9. holiday gift prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is not the oath that makes us believe the man, but the man the oath. 
> 
> Aeschylus

Kara El - 11 Springs | Lucy Ze - 12 Autumns

“I bet he’s ugly,” Lucy said through a mouthful of summer ham.

If Kara had not seen it before - the elbows on the table and the sight of half chewed food rolling in her mouth - the act would have surely been repulsive. Her father always said that a proper lady practiced ladylike behaviour at all times, even in the privacy of her own room.

But Aunt Astra was always gentle in her reproach and sometimes, Kara wished her advisors would do the same. Even if it never seemed to work, Kara wished they might try at least once her.

“Dear, please mind your manners. We are at the dinner table.”

“That’s probably why no one’s seen his face,” Lucy continued on, unperturbed by her mother’s remarks, “Sucks you got an ugly one, Kar. Prince James is pretty. And I hear his parents are rich. Maybe your parents can pick him instead.”

Through the clamoring of the adults, a seedling of doubt took hold.

Kara had always followed proprietary. Never had she doubted or questioned the decisions of her parents or the wisdom of her aunt. But now, staring down at the peas still on her plate, doubt churned and Kara wondered if maybe, just maybe, they had been wrong.

-

“But Aunt Astra, I heard he has lepry,” Kara whispered, struggling against the fabrics of her evening gown.

 

“Kara Elizabeth El, stop wiggling,” Astra admonished, “And where did you hear such nonsense from?”

 

“O-o-oh, just, you know, my friends?” Kara withered under the knowing gaze, “L-L-Lucy said it!”

 

Shaking her head, Astra drew the corset draws tight, “Do not listen to your cousin, Little One. Your prince is not ill.”

 

Deflating with each tug, Kara sighed, “But they say he hides his face. Why does he hide his face, Aunt Astra?”

 

With a gentle smile, Astra pressed a kiss to the crown of her niece, “We all have our reasons. Never let anyone swayed you of others, Little One. Even those you love.”

 

-

“You should be in bed.”

Kara kneaded the fabric of her night gown, suddenly far less courageous than she had been marching down the stone halls moments before.

Settling aside the parchment, King Zor motioned his daughter forward, “My child, what is wrong?”

All the confusion and the uncertainty bubbled forth in a slur of words Kara herself could barely comprehend, “LulusaidmyprinceisprobablyuglyandI’venevermethimsomaybeyoucouldpickPrinceJamesinstead!?”

The king blinked owlishly for several moments before offering a soft laugh, “Your mother mentioned young Lucy’s words. Come, Kara.”

When her father motioned to his lap, Kara clamoured up. It was rare these days that her father would allow her to sit upon his knee as she once had as a toddler. It was no longer ladylike, he had said.

“Kara, your mother and I understand your hesitance to wed one you have not met,” King Zor spoke just over the roar of the fire, “You must hear many whispers, some well, others not.”

“Yesterday, I overheard the chambermaid’s say they are like the savages in the hills.”

Around his gentle smile, King Zor inquired, “And do you believe your mother and father would wed you to savages my Little Star?”

“Oh no father, I do not think you and mother would!” Kara exclaimed, seemingly affronted by the very idea.

“And do you believe we would wed you to someone who would not care for you and treasure you?”

Kara paused, her thoughts racing.

The words her father spoke were wise and they were kind and like her mother’s soft smile, it brought a warmth to the tips of Kara’s toes.

Since the announcement of the kingdom she would wed, Kara had heard many whispers. Most were of a harsh and untamed kingdom full of big, brutish beasts. Others spoke of a beautiful people, dangerous and deadly, who sought power and to rule the far lands.

It had never bothered Kara until the words Lucy had spoken clung to her like perspiration on a high summer’s day.

“I do not think so, father,” the fear of a disfigured form filled Kara’s mind and with pleading eyes she turned towards her father, “But what if he is ugly, father? What will I do then?”

The boisterous laughter that filled the room felt warm like the fire, “Oh my Little Star, beauty must never be the measure by which we hold our merit. But I promise you, your prince will be more beautiful than the moon.”

Kara El - 13 Springs | Lucy Ze - 15 Autumns

It had grown easy to dampen the rumours that milled about of the Kingdom of Myriad. Her father had increased the time necessary with her advisors and when Kara was not learning the proprieties of a princess and one day queen, she was attending festivities with the neighbouring royalty or the nobility of the Kingdom of El.

For the most part, Lucy had stopped insisting of the deformity of her prince and Kara couldn’t help but wonder if it had more to do with the words her father had spoken or with the fascination her cousin had grown for the northern lands.

-

In the mid of summer, a messenger arrived from the north, blood covered and spent.

He spoke of an uprising deep in the mountains: the giants and the savages united. They had pressed the western borders and while the kingdom was well equipped, it would not be enough to push them back into the depths from whence they came.

An army of a hundred were drawn, her father at the helm and Kara watched as they set off into the night.

“Sleep, my child. You are safe here,” her mother spoke softly as she tucked Kara in, an act she had not done for some time.

“And my prince?” The words flowed out unabated, a concern Kara had never imagined she could feel for a human she did not know.

“Your father will do everything he can, to aid your prince.”

When the fires in the north settled some weeks later and word from her father came, Kara wished she could not weep. Her prince had lost his father - brave, even in his dying breaths - and his mother - succumbed to illness and the strains of war.

-

“She is still too young to lead!”

Sleep had been unkind, tormenting and fragile, as of late.

In desperation, Kara had taken to roaming the stone corridors, the cold a welcome reprieve to the sweats and heated skin.

“She must and she will. There is no other choice.”

The voice of her mother and father rang clear and it stilled the rapid beating of Kara’s heart in a way she did not wish. Suddenly, the halls were no longer the calm Kara sought and they did not bring the relief they once had.

“You cannot truly mean it. You cannot allow-”

What remained Kara never heard, scampering back into the confines of her bed and the cold furs that awaited. She was afraid. Afraid and terrified for that which would come.

She was not ready to lead.

When her father left at first light, a dozen of his finest in tow, Kara did not understand. But relief settled in her veins and for that moment Kara knew she would live another day unbound by the reality of her blood.

-

“Have you heard? Your prince will soon be a king.”

Kara looked up from her studies with confusion pressed into her brow, “I am sorry?”

“Your prince,” Lucy said, her quill scratching across her parchment uninterrupted, “He’s the last one, right? His sister died and now his mother and father? Someone has to be king.”

“But… but… he is only fifteen winters. He is too young to be king!” Kara sputtered, the memories of her parents words rushing to the foreground of her thoughts.

“I thought so too. But mother said responsibility is no respecter of age. He has a kingdom and his people need him.”

Kara El - 14 Springs | Lucy Ze - 15 Autumns | Prince of Myriad - 16 Winters

“It is not safe for you to go now,” King Zor said with a finality Kara had not heard since she was five and had refused to greet a visiting royal.

“But, father, plea-”

“I said no, Kara!”

It hurt, the way her father stood, looming, and still only able to see her as his young child and not the young woman he had raised her to be. It was as if he had forgotten, forgotten every lesson he had ever taught her about duty and responsibility.

-

“Have you heard? The Prince of Myriad slayed a horde of giants. Without any help!”

Kara listened to the hushed whispers of her court mates decked in their finest wares.

“I heard he has grown tall and handsome. So handsome it killed the giants.”

It was the late of autumn and the the harvest had come to a close.

As was the tradition, the Kingdom of El opened its halls to the nobles of the surrounding regions. It was a time for festivities and for rest and to recognize the year past.

“I heard he has united several of the neighbouring tribes with only his words.”

It was also a time where the practiced edicate, ingrained daily for hours on end in Kara, grew tested.

Perhaps it was the impoliteness of the whispered words or the oddities of her cousin’s cordiality, but in the safety of the walls of El, Kara suddenly felt angered and unsafe. Nothing felt right and Kara was tired of pretending.

Kara El - 16 Springs | Lucy Ze - 17 Autumns | Prince of Myriad - 19 Winters

The convoy was small and Kara felt the unspoken displeasure in her father.

“What is the meaning of this?”

His voice boomed across the hall and all those present grew silent. It had been a celebration, a gaiety of the unity between two kingdoms: an event fit for a king and queen.

And yet, one was not present and the convoy sent in his stead was not quite a dozen strong and certainly not intrigued by the prospect of celebration.

“The heir of Myriad offers their condolences,” the head of the convoy assured.

He was tall, his shoulders broad and his body clothed in an armour unlike any Kara had seen. Its colour was dark like the night skin, etched with patterns that might have spoken of tales; falls and triumphs. The cloak that hung from his shoulders was of a white furred animal Kara had never before seen. His party wore wears similar, their faces obscured by paints of white and red.

All seemed out of place in the fine laces and fabrics of the hall.

“J’onn, we will speak in my study,” motioning to the nearby guard, King Zor commanded, “Show them to the necessary grounds.”

Kara was not welcomed to follow and as the party resumed, she wished the weight of her name did not bind her to stay.

-

Packed only with the lights of her wardrobe, atop a tall steed, in the company of silent companions, Kara felt uneasy.

The passes were closed until the mid of spring making caravan travel near impossible. It had also been explained to her that transporting such goods drew the sights of unwanted eyes and the safety of her transport was of the utmost importance.

“Here.”

Kara felt a heavy warmth press down upon her shoulders, drowning but not unwelcome. Glancing to her side, Kara saw the man her father had called J’onn through the white of the fur.

“Thank you,” Kara whispered, unaware of just how cold she had become.

“ _Dum inter homines sumus , colamus humanitatem._ ” **[As long as we are among humans, let us be humane.]** he said softly.

-

It was nothing like Kara had ever imagined.

The city stretched as far as the eye could see, built of stone and nestled in the heart of the towering snow covered mountains.

Unlike the dirt covered streets of the common markets in the Kingdom of El, the streets here were made of smooth stone, cleared of snow for the inhabitants. Children played in the streets, market stalls were left unattended and the warm orange glow mixed with laughter seemed to emanate from every building.

Those they passed paid respect to the warriors, offering them the warmest of returns and for the first time since Kara had watched them stand before her father, their shoulders seemed to drop but a fraction and their lips curled in smiles.

-

The latest rumours in El had spoken of a tall and most handsome prince; of a man who could single handedly slay giants, charm royal delegates and had united old tribes that had long sworn disjunction from all.

What stood before Kara was an enigma.

The crown atop his head was not composed of a metal like her fathers but rather a headdress made of the skull of a beast Kara prayed she would never meet - its snout long and its teeth razor sharp. The blackened horns curled back and an intricate array of black and white feathers shrouded its backside. White fur draped across his shoulders and down the length of his body and the armour was a mixture of black metals and leathers.

Beneath the bone of the headdress was nothing but darkness. Somewhere there might have been pale skin, but Kara was not sure if she had seen it or perhaps, imagined it.

-

“But you are my prince!” Kara objected.

“Not by your choice.”

The voice was low and hoarse and Kara wondered if had always been so. Nothing about it felt right; felt… human.

“Rest, Kara of El. You have my oath, no harm will come to you. _Meum pactum dictum_.” **[My word is my bond.]**

As the doors closed, Kara was left to the drawn bath and warmed bed. A heavy burden she had not realised she carried, tumbled from her shoulders.

-

It was nothing like the courts of El.

Where the Kingdom of El was a show of privilege and the finest silks and opened only to the highest of nobility, the doors of Myriad remained open to all. From the farmers on the outskirts of the northern borders, in to trade their goods, to the most seasoned of warriors, all were welcomed.

And each, Kara noticed, were given a voice, no matter how trivial or mundane: the King of Myriad heard all.

-

“Will I ever know your name?” Kara asked seated for dinner twelve eves following her arrival to the city.

Dinners were simple and something, Kara noticed, the King of Myriad was rare to attend. His advisor, J’onn, had ensured his presence and for that Kara was grateful. However, the distance from the man she had been bound to wed since the age of eleven hurt left Kara wondering what she had done wrong.

“You do not know?” the king asked, genuinely surprised, “What do the people of El call me?”

Without the headdress and heavy armour, Kara noted how simple the heir of Myriad truly was. The wares they chose were a brown leather and a lighter fur settled atop his shoulders. The darkness that had loomed beneath the maw of the headdress, Kara realised, was a mask the colour of the darkest night that covered all but a portion of his face. This one was different than the night Kara had first met the heir - as it allowed for the visibility of dusky lips and the warmest earthy coloured eye.

Swallowing the tender meat cut, Kara realised just how many ways her people had referred to the enigma of the northern kingdom.

“They referred to you as the prince of Myriad. Later, they spoke of you as king. My father and mother also referred to you as such.”

Most Kara decided would be best kept to herself.

“I see. My people call me Luna Aurea. But you may call me Alex. It was the name gifted to me by my parents.”

“Alex?” Kara asked, testing how the name felt across her tongue, “I like that.”

-

“Your coronation shall be in the late of spring,” J’onn said as he escorted Kara to the library.

“Late spring?” Kara paused.

Winter was still young and if the springs in Myriad were as the springs in El, the coronation would not be for five more months.

Holding the door open, J'onn urged Kara in, “ _Luna Aurea_ wishes the unity be celebrated when the passes are clear. It will allow those not of the city to attend, should they choose.”

“That is very thoughtful of him,” Kara said as she ducked into the room.

It was not of the same grandeur as her father’s study, but its depth held a remarkability all its own. Tomes of all forms filled the shelves and Kara felt an overwhelming rush of excitement.

“Please know until then Princess Kara, Luna Aurea and the people of Myriad see you as their queen and they will respect your wishes.”

As J’onn turned to leave, Kara called out, “J’onn? Why does everyone call him, _Luna Aurea_?”

It had seemed such a simple question yet Kara watched as the tall man’s posture shifted and his tone transformed.

All names were gifted for one reason or another. Most often, a name spoke of a tale whether it be from where they came, a circumstance around their birth or the path which it was believed they would one day follow. Yet J’onn had appeared guarded, protective, and perhaps even hesitant.

To Kara, it felt as if he were debating his words.

“Old fables speak of _Luna Aurea_ , born of the moon and goddess to the tribes of the north. On the rarest of nights, in the deadest of winter, should a golden moon arise it would bridge the space between man and god. A child born of this night, would be a gift from _Luna Aurea_ and a god among men.”

“So Alex was born under a golden moon?” Kara inquired curiously, “But was there not two? Alex had a sister.”

J’onn bowed low and Kara noted the prominent white marks ever so visible at the base of his skull.

“It is but an old wives’ tale, Daughter of El. You would do best not dwell on it.”

-

“I am so sorry,” Kara apologized, her eyes shut tight.

It seemed foolish, apologizing for having stumbled across Alex in a state of undress. However, Alex had been the most respecting of space and since Kara had arrived to Myriad three months prior, her privacy had always been respected. Kara was never once been forced into the chambers of the king. In fact, Kara had her own, night after night, complete with a warm drawn bath and heated bed. The clothes brought to her daily were either her own, modified for the cold of Myriad, or a set seemingly traditional to the area. As such, Kara had never once seen Myriad’s King outside of his customary court wares or his battle attire.

But when word trickled in of the battalions return, led by a wounded king, Kara had ignored all premise of propriety, rushing to the chambers of the king without thought.

“Please do not be.”

When Alex hissed, Kara gazed on instinct, her breath drawing sharp.

Beneath the layers of armour and fur skins, skin pale like the moon lingered. It appeared soft, gentle, where not marred by a singular scar that stretched from the blade of his shoulder to the opposing side of his lower back and his profusely bleeding collar.

But perhaps more startling than the snowy coloured scar and the mess of blood was the simple fact that he was perhaps more she.

“Alex?”

Brushing aside the worrying hands of the shaman, Alex extended the blood stained cloth toward Kara, “Please? I think there is something we must speak of.”

-

The wound was deep. Kara cleaned what she could but it seemed to do little.

“I was born Alexandria of Myriad. My brother was Alexander.”

Reaching for a rag untouched by the warm blood, Kara wanted Alex - Alexandria or whomever she was - to stop speaking. It made the blood bubble forth faster and her skin grow increasingly pale.

“I should never have lived. Kara, I-”

J’onn brought the searing red hot flat of the blade down upon the bubbling wound and Kara knew it was a cry she would never forget.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Kara turned expectantly to the man she had felt safe in the presence of, “J’onn?”

“She will be fine, Daughter of El. Will you?”

-

“It is gone,” Kara stated when Alex regained consciousness.

It had not been more than half a day but Kara had remained by the bedside of a person she was not so sure she had ever known. J’onn had come and go, tending to the council and other requirements in Alex’s stead.

Noting the confused glaze in the cold silver and warm brown eyes, Kara explained, “Your wound. It is no more.”

“Oh.”

“You aren’t human, are you?”

The words tumbled past Kara’s lips carelessly and in contradiction to all she had learned. But only part of Kara cared, the part that always sought the praise of her father’s voice or the acknowledgement in his posture and he was not here.

“I am. Or am mostly.”

The words of her father, soleum and taut, rang clear and Kara wondered if perhaps he had known. Known that he had given his only daughter away to someone who was not quite human.

“What are you?”

“Broken.”

-

The patrols along the Western front had doubled.

Giants had pillaged several settlements and the oddly organized behaviour of the attacks had drawn the eye of the council. Attacks by giants were not unheard of but their precision was. The giants were not the most mindful of beasts.

Kara had spent the days helping those brought in: their towns burned or their families separated. It was the simplest of ways to both avoid Alex and to avoid her thoughts around Alex.

But it seemed Kara was not the only one giving space. Alex had become as scarce as the summer warmth of El. If it were not for the trailed words heard in the deliberations of the council, Kara might have thought the king dead.

And without the companionship of Alex through the day, Kara had become reduced to the events she stumbled upon rather than the event Alex had once invited her to.

“Did you know, _Luna Aurea_ , was not the only god?”

Kara startled, wrapping the bandage a tad tighter than she had expected.

J’onn settled down an elderly woman on the makeshift bedding, “ _Lupus Albus_ ruled over the beasts of the mountains, his form that of a monstrous white wolf.”

“That is all very nice J’onn but-”

“Unlike _Luna Aurea_ , _Lupus Albus_ loathed the people of the north. More than that, _Lupus Albus_ loathed _Luna Aurea_. One day, two children of _Luna Aurea_ , fraught with adventure and excitement and too far from home, stumbled across his path. Only one survived, marked for all eternity and their senses poisoned by the beasts.”

She might have imagined it, but Kara swore his eyes shone silver and his skin white.

“Myriad does not see a king and it does not see a queen. The people of Myriad see a child, born of hope and filled with promise. They see life where there should be death. They see love where there should be hate. Myriad has always known of the children of Luna Aurea and of their fate and they have chosen to love them regardless.”

“So why did my father and the kingdoms surrounding El not know?” Kara accused, tired of the tales and of the lies.

“You father always knew, Daughter of El. What he chose to tell you was another.”

Kara El - 17 Springs l Lucy Ze - 17 Autumns l Alex of Myriad - 19 Winters

The passes had opened late and with the unsettled borders to the west, the coronation had been pushed back to the solstice of summer.

In that time, Kara had turned another season, celebrating in the late spring melt. Those who could attend, celebrated her like the queen she was not.

Over heated words and great reluctance, J’onn had remained within Myriad. It was not where he had wanted to be, steadfastly loyal to Alex in a way Kara could not understand. And he was not alone. One after another residents of Myriad and many from the surrounding regions had stepped forth, all ready to serve a man - a woman - who was nothing but a facade.

“Your cousin has arrived,” a messenger presented, disrupting Kara from her thoughts.

“Thank you, Vasquez, please see her in.”

-

“So this is what the forbidden wastelands of the north are like.”

Kara had not realised how much she had missed the forward nature and steady drawl of her cousin. With a heave, Kara collapsed into the awaiting arms.

“It’s alright, Kar. I’ve got you.”

-

“To our welcomed guests, King Zor and Queen Alura of El,” J’onn toasted.

In place of raised glasses, the citizens of Myriad hoisted high a closed fist, a sign of solidarity and welcome among the tribes of the north.

Alex had not returned from the mountains and part of Kara twinged in yearning. In the months since her arrival, Kara had grown used to the reassuring presence of the armor clad warrior by her side. Until her discovering, Kara had felt the security and peace that had grown increasingly difficult to find within the walls of El.

“To the gracious welcome from the Kingdom of Myriad,” King Zorel returned, raising his glass high.

-

Word had arrived when the moon stood tallest in the sky.

Unable to sleep, Kara was buried deep in a book she had found wedged under the high stack on the table’s edge of the library.

Written in a language Kara knew not, she had enlisted the help of Vasquez in deciphering its text. The very act calmed her thoughts, stilled her heart, and though it was temporary, Kara sought it just as a drunkard sought wine.

J’onn stood before her, abnormally rigid, “Luna Aurea has returned.”

Dread rang through Kara like the winter chill she had grown to know well. Words Kara had spent many a nights forming withered into a darkness she could not follow.

“She wishes to speak with you.”

-

When Kara had first entered the chamber, her only thought had been that of safety and of assurance. Now, long before the rise of the sun, by the light of candles and a roaring fire, Kara noted the intricacies she had missed.

Across the entire far wall, stretched a mural. In the light of the moon, it glittered and appeared to shift with the soft breeze. From the mountains to the plains to the coasts far in the south, Kara realised its significance. It was a map more far reaching than any Kara had ever seen and far more real.

Books stacked neatly atop a desk tucked in the corner accompanied more parchment than Kara ever hoped to use.

Before where Kara had smelt only blood, now lingered the scent of honeysuckle and burning pine.

“Kara of El,” Alex greeted, bowing respectfully from the arch that joined to the balcony, “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Is that not what a queen does: answer to her king? Or I suppose you, in this case.”

Kara knew it was childish and foolish to press her luck. But part of her could not resist, the rebelliousness bubbling to the surface in great bounty.

“I have upset you,” Alex said with a defeat Kara had never before heard, “You have every right to feel so.”

Following the downturned gaze, Kara noticed a small parchment, rolled and wrapped in silver ribbon. On it bore the seal of Myriad, a seal Kara had only ever seen on the documents of the court.

“The coronation will proceed as arranged. It was an oath: from my father to yours. Had Alexander lived, it would have been he you wed. He was the kindest of souls.”

It was unmistakable the sorrow that lingered, even years past.

“You will have your freedom - from the duties to Myriad and her people, from the obligation of fealty. It is bound, written before the council and sworn.”

Turning back from whence she came, Alex gave one last smile, unmasked and unbridled, “Myriad will see to all you need. She will ask nothing in return and hope for your health, your jubilation and your eternal warmth. Myriad is blessed by you, Kara of El. _Mea anima est cum te. Nostra animae sunt cum vobix_.” **[My heart is with you. Our hearts are with you all.]**

-

“How can she just- She cannot-“

“Oh no, she can and she did,” Lucy said with a low whistle.

Turning to face the prone form of her cousin draped over the comforts of her bed, Kara scowled, “You are not being helpful.”

Even if Lucy had never been the model of propriety, she had been the solidity Kara needed. The way she spoke, the way she moved, none of it changed. Even in the face of Aunt Astra’s death – her own mother - Lucy had been the stability Kara had never known she would need.

“Kar, way I see it, I am,” Lucy motioned to the parchment Alex and the council had approved, “You can literally do anything. Crazy moon lady just gave you the seal of approval to literally do whatever you want for the rest of your life.”

“She is not a crazy moon lady,” Kara correct, unconsciously, “What?”

Shaking her head, Lucy shrugged, “Dunno, maybe the fact that out of everything I just said, you only heard the crazy moon lady part.”

Heaving a sigh, Kara collapsed into the top fur, its coat silky against her skin. Once, she had made passing mention to Alex how some of the furs had felt coarse, abrasive against her sensitive skin as it adjusted to the changes of Myriad. Ever since, only the softest of furs had ever been used in her gowns or for her bedding.

“Oh Kar, you got it bad.”

-

Kara had settled for a gown traditional to that of Myriad.

It had never been her intentional however the way it had melted the tension strung taut like a bow in the shoulders of Alex and the soft smile it had earned from J’onn pressed into her mind for days to follow. It had disappointed her mother and perhaps even more, her father.

“But dear, it is a tradition for all those before you.”

Smiling at her reflection in the smooth surface upon the wall, Kara shrugged, “ _Variatio delectat_.” **[There is nothing like change.]**

-

The streets had dawned colours of reds, whites and the gentlest of blues.

Incoming tribes had nestled in among those of Myriad, welcomed with open arms. Those who could not fit had settled just outside the city walls. Warriors aided farmers and peasants feasted alongside tribal leaders. Even Alex - an apparent god among men - had opened every unused space of her keep and had chosen to spend many of her waking hours walking among the streets to personally greet those who had come.

The nobles from kingdoms south of El and along the sea wall to the east all seemed oddly out of place - rigid and boisterous - and Kara realised, her coronation had never been meant for the nobility.

It had been an oath, forged in the dead of winter between the tribes of the north in the greatest of sanctities. Her coronation was the unspoken promise of devotion to a leader born of the moon who in her human fragility had shown strength, endurance and unrelenting devotion.

Drawn into a warm embrace by a woman Kara did not know, offered flowers and whispered prayers, Kara sobbed.

 _Luna Aurea_ had chosen to protect so many ceaselessly and of all Alex could chose to stand by her side, she had forever promised it to Kara: unassuming and unwavering.

-

“Why do you do this?” Kara exclaimed as she barged into the chamber.

On the eve of the coronation after a simple dinner alongside Alex, Kara had grown tired.

It was always unconditional, it was always Kara and it had long ago grown unfair. Everything Alex had done had remained as it had since Kara had arrived and Kara hated it. She was supposed to remain angry - forever - against a woman who had lied to her and who had let her care under all the wrong presumptions.

“Kara of El,” Alex greeted, seated next to the fire in apparent discomfort.

But none of it matter - the inclination of her voice or the tension in her body - as Kara pressed on determined for answers, “Why do this? You gain nothing. Tell me!”

“Please?” Alex asked, motioning to the empty space before her.

Kara paused, suddenly hesitant.

The bare stone before the fire had been covered by what appeared to be the furs of the bedding and against the stone frame of the hearth, Alex had nestled herself; pale and in what appeared to be a great deal of pain.

“Ale-”

“It was not untrue when I said I was broken. But that is not the answers you seek.”

Settling upon the fur brought a degree of calm to the tremor of Alex’s skin, Kara noted still cautious not to seat herself too close.

“I had always thought Alexander would bear the weight of Luna Aurea. While he was calm, serving and humble, I was mischievous, in search for the newest adventure. I had begged him to go deep into the mountains. I had told him it was safe.”

In her time in Myriad, Kara had heard many tales of _Luna Aurea_ and her children. It amazed her how she had never pieced together which child had passed, the answer always present in Myriad, never masked.

“It was meant for me. But Alexander… A beast, forsaken by _Lupus Albus_ , arrived too late to aid Alexander. As I recovered, I swore my life to that which he had loved: life. Alexander loved without condition, even the ill or deformed,” Alex smiled no matter the sweat that beaded from her brow, “He had dreamt to unite the tribes of old and lead alongside them, never from behind.”

The fire spat and crackled and Kara felt thirteen springs once again when she had wept for a prince she had not known.

“At first, it had been an obligation. But with time, it became an honour to know even a fraction of you and I believed in earnest in your kindness and the unseen potential you hold. It was not a lie, Kara of El, that Myriad is blessed by your presence.”

There was a depth to the words Kara could not understand, the same depth she had felt in the streets of Myriad and in the company of its people. Whether it was the pauper or the counsel, it had always been present like the swell of her chest as it drew breath.

But perhaps she did not need to understand. 

The prince of Myriad had been the enigma Kara had spent years preparing for: preparing to love without reservation or restriction. She had been prepared to sacrifice everything and yet Alex had never once asked. And perhaps she had broken Kara’s trust but as she wipe away the tremor in Alex’s brow, Kara realised she was ready to begin that healing process, “I am sorry. Please, rest now.”

Exhausted, Alex slipped into sleep, her brow uncreasing and her body easing.

Silently, Kara withdrew the roll of parchment tucked into the folds of her gown, the seal of myriad glowing in the light of the dying embers, “Tomorrow is a new day,” she whispered as the parchment burned in a blaze of beautiful reds, oranges and yellows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/154932584373/holiday-gift-prompt)


	10. Under These Fluorescent Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All it would take was one out of place word or one misstep and it would no longer be as simple as an accident but the sudden repercussions of a string of accusations. As if somehow, the actions of James were the mantle Kara wore and had to respond for, no matter how loosely they might be linked.

“What do you mean you can’t tell us? You-“

“I think what he means to say is that Kara has no next of kin. He’s probably the closest thing,” Winn interjected, elbowing James to keep silent.

The emergency room was chaotic and the last thing anyone needed was for James to cause a ruckus. Especially Kara.

Outside the lights of the media flashed.

All it would take was one out of place word or one misstep and it would no longer be as simple as an accident but the sudden repercussions of a string of accusations. As if somehow, the actions of James were the mantle Kara wore and had to respond for, no matter how loosely they might be linked.

If it had been Winn, the questions never would have been poised or the subject of heated debate. The scrutiny of the media were unequal and Winn knew that.

“I’m sorry, but the law is the law,” the nurse offered sympathetically.

-

“Excuse me? I’m looking for my- for Kara.”

Downwind of the nursing station, hunkered into the hard plastic of the waiting room chairs, Winn perked. By and large, Lucy and the hospital security had done well at filtering any wayward fans. Of course, they were human, and rising to his feet, Winn moved to direct the woman out.

“And does this Kara have a last name, ma’am?”

“Danvers?”

Winn stopped mid stride, confusion spreading across his features. The name stated was not Kara’s and this woman, beautiful as she might be, was either deluded or looking for someone entirely different else who coincidentally happened to have the same name and be in the same hospital at the same time as Kara.

“Your name and ID?”

Winn never heard the name as the brunette slid some form of identification towards the placid nurse. Whatever it said caused the nurse to deflate, her shoulders sunk and her lips turned downcast.

“She’s in surgery right now. Why don’t you grab a seat, hun, and I’ll have someone by to tell you more?”

“Thank you.”

The waiting room itself was virtually empty – save an elderly gentleman, James and himself. It was an arrangement Lucy had somehow managed, free of the leering eyes of the media and the other hospital patrons, and for that Winn was grateful.

As the woman settled into the chair nearest the station, Winn remained wary. Her posture screamed aloof and it was mirrored by the way the features upon her face settled. It reminded Winn of the stationed guards he had seen during his tour of the White House last autumn. Never once had they smiled or offered any form of acknowledgement.

-

At the seven hour mark, James speaking in hushed tones to the nurse at the station desk, the ding of the elevator was a welcome diversion to the tedium of waiting. There was only so much social media Winn could catch up on and only so many lines he could commit to memory when his brain felt like mush.

The tall dark complexioned gentleman that emerged, dressed in a crisp tailored suit, felt out of place in the hospital climate at half past three on a Tuesday morning.

But then again, as he sat wordlessly down beside the rigid brunette, all steel eyed and proper posture, Winn realized no one truly fit.

-

“Oh God, Alex?”

The voice broke the monotony of the codes called on the overhead speaker and movements of the hospital staff.

It had been roughly thirteen hours since Winn had arrived to the hospital with James and neither of them had heard a word on Kara’s condition. Even Lucy, Kara’s agent, had been left in the dark. Legalities, the hospital staff cited.

From time to time, Winn noticed how the staff would pull the brunette aside. It was always out of earshot and Winn imagined they were updates on whomever it was she was waiting for. In those brief moments, he noticed how her posture would shift and her features would soften. But it was always temporary and when the conversation would end, so would the flicker of emotions.

But until this moment he had never caught a name. It wasn’t that he was intentionally trying to eavesdrop, except that he was. This woman, with her male companion stationed by her side like a personal guard, was an enigma and in the delirium of the wait, Winn wanted to understand where it was that they fit into some grander life scheme.

The woman rushing off the elevator, frantic and disorientated, was like how Winn always imagined most people would be in the unsettling wait that accompanied the surgery wait room. James was a pacer. He had paced the enter length of the hall so much so that Winn was sure if someone looked close enough, they would certainly see a well worn path. And Winn was the over thinker, his mind having already devised sixteen possibilities for why Kara’s surgery was taking so long. It was rather morbid, really.

The hug was catatonic, more one sided than anything, and Winn realised he was probably intruding on a very personal moment with very human troubles. But like an accident unfolding before him, Winn struggled to tear his eyes away.

“You’re okay, I thought-“

“Kara’s in surgery. She coded twice.”

It was like telling the weather, Winn thought, bland and unimportant. If he didn’t know how long this woman had waited, Winn might have thought she didn’t care. And maybe she didn’t. About any of it. And yet here she still was. Waiting. For something.

“Oh honey.”

Like a clock striking the hour, realisation struck Winn. He had never met her, the woman from the elevator, but he had seen pictures and heard the odd story. Eliza was her name. Kara’s foster mother. A woman Kara was tight lipped to speak about and in all the years Winn had known Kara, he never understood why. Kara had always spoken so positively of their relationship in the rare moments.

Waiting in the stillness of the plastic chairs, Kara’s foster mother present, Winn realised this brunette had been asking for Kara. His best friend Kara. Kara Zorel, not Kara Danvers, and before Winn could think things through, he was on his feet.

“Excuse me, ma’ams?” Winn extended his hand, “I’m Winn Scott, Kara’s best friend.”

-

It surprised Winn how much Eliza seemed to know about him.

In some respects, it wouldn’t have been the most shocking news had this woman been a fan. Virtually his entire life story was published somewhere online. However, as he spoke with Eliza, it became apparent she only knew Winn through the lens of Kara and the moments he had never realised she had shared. 

Eliza knew about the time Winn had fallen up the stairs in his own apartment and the time he had answered the door in only his briefs because he could have sworn he put on pants. She also knew about James and how he and Kara had met. Beyond that though, she seemed to know little.

Winn also learned about Alex, rigid Alex, the only daughter of the Danvers’ and her friend who went by J’onn. Just J’onn.

Eliza had explained how she and her late husband had been close friends to the Zorel’s and when Kara’s parents had passed, it seemed only natural that she would come to stay with the Danvers. And Kara had for about eight years.

It was enthralling, to learn of this side Kara had never shared with James or himself but none of it explained why Alex was still the only one the doctors and nurses would speak to regarding Kara’s condition.

-

“So you’re like, Kara’s foster sister, right?” Winn asked.

J’onn had left to attend to matters that had sounded urgent. Stationed by Alex’s side, he had spoken little until out of necessity, a call had taken him away. Alex seemed to understand, offering no words just a nod and lowered shoulders.

Maybe he was wrong, but Winn guessed Alex wasn’t so fond of the idea but acknowledged the reality.

“Not really.”

James shifted nearby, stretched out over four plastic chairs, dozing lightly. Eliza had disappeared and Winn couldn’t recall when he had last seen the older woman. A researcher, he had learned, who lived not too far from here. Maybe she had gone home.

“But… your parents took her in. They fostered her,” Winn stated as though he were speaking to a child.

Legalistically, that meant siblings and maybe Alex just didn’t know. Or maybe, if the distance and the absence from Kara’s life was anything to go by, Alex had never seen it as such. Just another body occupying space in the scheme of life.

But it didn’t make sense. Not when Eliza had described them as inseparable. And it truly made even less sense when the charge nurse would turn to Alex first, as if seeking consent, before addressing the group with any update.

“And that was their decision, not mine.”

-

Kara was stable.

With elation, Winn rung Lucy. Odds were she was up to her eyes in cleanup work and running on sheer willpower, but Winn knew he wasn’t the only one anxious on Kara’s status.

_“Winn? Is-”_

“Before you panic and ask me twenty questions, can I just say that Kara is stable. She is in the ICU now. They say the next forty-eight hours are critical but they don’t foresee any further complications,” Winn listed off all the pertinent facts he could recall.

It had taken twenty-two hours and Winn would never forget the way the surgeon had turned to the stoic form of Alex Danvers.

_“Any further- Winn, what the hell happened? And how do you know-”_

Winn sighed, the remaining remnants of adrenaline seeping from his pores, “He told Alex,” the reality of the situation suddenly felt inescapable upon his chest, “Lu, he told her wife. He told Kara’s _wife_.”

_“Shit.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/154364674268/what-do-you-mean-you-cant-tell-us-you-i)


	11. Grief is like the ocean; it comes in waves, ebbing and flowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Promise me.”
> 
> Alex woke with a start, chest heaving. The cotton tee clung to her body like a second skin, sweat clinging to her skin in a thin sheen. Clenched tightly in her fist was the firearm Alex stowed holstered beneath her pillow; first chamber blank, safety instinctively disengaged.
> 
> The space staring down the barrel of her government issued firearm was empty, her apartment devoid of life save the out of place cactus, courtesy of Kara.

“Grief is like the ocean; it comes in waves, ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.”

Vicki Harrison

 

“Promise me.”

Alex woke with a start, chest heaving. The cotton tee clung to her body like a second skin, sweat clinging to her skin in a thin sheen. Clenched tightly in her fist was the firearm Alex stowed holstered beneath her pillow; first chamber blank, safety instinctively disengaged.

The space staring down the barrel of her government issued firearm was empty, her apartment devoid of life save the out of place cactus, courtesy of Kara. 

Reengaging the safety, Alex permitted her body to sag, hands falling as though weighted with osmium.

03:57

“Fuck me,” muttered Alex, running a hand down her face. She had only managed two hours of rest and though her body felt leaded, an adrenaline coursed through her veins that left her skin alight.

Tossing aside the covers, acknowledging that no matter what she might do sleep would not return soon, Alex padded over to the hanging bag; her greatest companion on nights like these.

The flexing and exertion upon her body was a soothing remedy to a frantic heart and fraying mind. It kept her company until the sun licked the horizon and Alex collapsed in a heap.

As the last seconds of consciousness waned, Alex finally felt calm. There, curled in upon herself on the bare concrete floor exhausted to the point when her body ceased to operate at her command, Alex knew the rest to come would be blank; devoid of life, of emotion, of reality.

-

“Stand down, Agent Danvers. That is a direct order.”

The voice that rang through Alex’s ear piece - authoritative and firm laced with nearly imperceivable concern - drew her back.

Lying at her feet a bloodied figure drew shallow breaths, eyelids swollen shut and features nearly unrecognizable: Fort Rozz escapee #2613. In the greased back hair blood clung thickly. Alex wasn’t so sure it was all alien.

“Alpha Team, secure the area and return with the prisoner.”

The directives set the agents into motion and Alex felt a wave of relief mixed with annoyance.

In the hold of the black shelled humvee, she ran the mental checklist, ensuring the safe and secure return of her team. Alex did what she was taught, months of training muscle memory.

The mechanicalness of it was its own soothing balm. It drowned out all mental chatter, putting a focus to Alex that years of agonizing training and constant command instilled.

It was the auto focus that kept Alex alive.

-

The suspension hadn’t been unjustified, Alex understood that. However, understanding and acceptance were not synonymous and Alex cursed protocol and all things under the sun with an array of expletives that would have turned the tips of her father’s ears pink and her mother into a winded thesis on propriety.

Downing one- two- three- hefty gulps of scotch straight from the bottle, Alex groaned. This wasn’t how it was meant to be.

Bottle set down on the island, the agent lunged at the hanging bag, ignoring the sting of her knuckles as they collided with the rough material or the way her body screamed in protest.

By the time Kara found her, rivulets of blood dripped from the black material of the bag to pool beneath. The warm embrace and unconditional support were more than Alex could bear and when her wobbling knees gave way from the burden of guilt, fear and self loathing, Kara held her with a tenderness Alex felt she would never deserve.

-

“Alex.”

The voice shattered the silence of perhaps the most welcoming sleep Alex had had in weeks, if not months, and the whine that slipped past her lips was purely instinctual. The agent burrowed away from the light that insisted on existing, earning a chuckle from the warmth Alex had burrow into.

“Alex,” Kara murmured - oh so sweet and oh so kind - fingers running through Alex’s sleep mussed hair.

It was a comforting gesture Alex had taught Kara many years ago when her nightmares had become a nightly affair; when separate beds became one and two bodies intertwined with such fervour that it was difficult to differentiate. Alex missed those nights, “You’ve been avoiding me, Alex. Why?”

Any remaining traces of sleep dissipated and in a heartbeat, Alex drew back. The lack of warmth and feeling of emptiness was instantaneous.

Blinking away the cloudy haze that lingered, she inhaled sharply, “Kara.” It was as though for the first time, Alex was aware of the Kryptonian’s presence.

“Agent Vasquez told me J’onn suspended you.”

Damn Vasquez, Alex cursed internally, silently promising to never share her field samples again with the other agent. It was childish but as Alex glared down at the blood stained gauze covering her knuckles then up to Kara’s puppy like concern, Alex hoped Vasquez could feel her inner rage and hoped it would follow her like a dark looming cloud for all eternity.

In a state of petulance, Alex grabbed at her duvet and drew it over her head, curling down and into herself. If she ignored Kara long enough, perhaps the woman would grow impatient and leave.

Leave it to Kara to simply do the same and join the silent pity party Alex was throwing with sympathetic silence.

Minutes - maybe hours passed - without a word. Just Kara holding a respectable distance between them - silent in observation - and Alex shifting uncomfortably every so often, a silent war waging within.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Alex exhaled, crossing her arms, “Kara, this is ridiculous. Shouldn’t you be at work? Your boss might try to kill you if you’re late.” Alex must have looked incredibly foolish, far too warm and far too grumpy under her chosen imprisonment.

Alex watched as Kara observed her discomfort, physically and perhaps emotionally, and Alex could literally see the wave of helplessness that washed over Kara’s features, “I…” the uncertainty seeped into her voice and Alex hated just how much it stung deep in her chest, “I asked Ms. Grant for a personal day.”

A sudden wave of claustrophobia hit and Alex clawed the duvet back, kicking it down the length of her body until her half dangled off the foot of the bed, “Kara, you can’t-” the guilt resurfaced and Alex panicked. Kara loved her job; loved the challenge it presented; loved the guidance she found in Cat Grant. Now Kara was going to lose it and because of Alex no-less. “You have to go,” Alex scurried away from Kara, attempting to maintain some semblance of calm, “You’ve got a job to maintain; a city to protect. Kara, you can’t-”

“Do it without you,” Alex felt the warm arms as they encircled her, preventing her from tumbling off the bed. She felt the nuzzling of a nose - never too cold, never too warm - against the fabric over her collar. Alex felt the words, “More than Catco, more than Kal-el, more than anything on this Earth or in space. I need you, Alex.”

“Is that what you think?” Alex asked softly. The waves of insecurity, of guilt, of pain momentarily ceased and all Alex could think to do was ease the hurt in Kara’s voice, “That you have to do this alone? You won’t lose me. “

“Haven’t I?”

The uncertainty Kara spoke with hit like a punch to the gut, leaving Alex gasping for air, “Wh-”

“Losing you.” Alex felt the the pads of fingers trace the gauze; amateurish at best. “You can lose someone who’s still very much here, Alex. Loss isn’t just physical.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/155299271383/grief-is-like-the-ocean-it-comes-in-waves)


	12. Under These Fluorescent Lights 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.”
> 
> Rumi

“Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.”

Rumi

“Cut!”

Winn sunk into the plush chaise of the office set.

It was a far cry from the cold hard plastic his body had molded to under the florescent lights of the hospital waiting room and nothing about it felt right. It gave in all the wrong places and it felt a lot like floating. All of it was just too much: too much comfort, too much warmth, too much relief.

“How’s she doin’?”

If decorum were not ingrained again and again by Lucy – no different than a drill sergeant – Winn surely would have groaned, the frustrations of the question slipping passed his lips. It was a simple question. It was a genuine question. And yet, since leaving the hospital early Wednesday morning, it was all Winn heard.

He loved Kara – wanted nothing more than for Kara to be okay, to be stretched out on this far too fluffy prop chaise laughing over botched lines and far too dramatic intentions – but she wasn’t and Winn hated it. He hated how it made him feel. He hated how nothing would make it better.

Except time, maybe time.

“She is stable in ICU. The doctors seem hopeful.”

His head throbbed. The exhaustion he felt seemed to stretch beyond simply physical - like a steady thrum in his bones that echoed through his body like some unending earthquake.

“Shit. How’s her boyfriend taking it? What was his name – Jason? Jim? No, James!”

Oddly enough, Winn missed the familiarity and the rigidity of the abysmal plastic chairs. At least there, no one asked him questions he didn’t know how to answer.

x

“Alexandra Danvers?”

Winn noticed the way her shoulders tensed and the corners of her lips twitched ever so downward. It was hardly visible – only something discernable after hours of constant observation – and it only served to add to the ambiguity that was Alexandra Danvers.

“Alex.”

Silent understanding seemed to pass over the face of the surgeon with a familiarity Winn was not accustomed to. As if somehow, someway, the face that had been present for all but a minute knew Alexandra Danvers with more profundity than her own mother.

“My apologies, Alex. Kara sustained serious trauma during the accident. For now, she has been stabilized but the next forty-eight hours will be the crucial.”

The way the surgeon flipped through the pages on their clipboard made Winn reminiscent of the set of the hospital drama he had met Kara on. The timing was all wrong, but Winn couldn’t shake the mental image.

“I noticed you requested a copy of the report. I have several notes to put together first but I’ll have Deborah bring it over as soon as I am done.”

“When can we see her?”

Winn had almost forgotten about James and his constant foot tapping and probing of the nursing staff, desperate for anything.

“I’m sorry sir but we won’t know that until she is stable enough to leave the ICU. When she is, the next of kin will be allowed to see her. Unfortunately, anyone else will have to wait until she regains consciousness. Alex, Deborah will have your wife’s report ready shortly. Please don’t go far.”

x

Nodding to the security at the door, Winn entered the hospital.

If anyone would have ever told him how calmed the sterile stench and cold hard plastic chairs would make him feel, Winn would have called them crazy.

And yet, here he was comforted by the horrible stench and relieved by the feel of plastic against his skin. Even the codes called over the paging and the intermittent conversations of the hospital staff felt warming.

“Mr. Schott, come to see Mrs. Danvers again?”

It still threw him for a loop, reeling to the side and nattering nonsense.

Whether he had unintentionally caught sight of some legal documentation or caught snippets of conversations not meant for him, Winn struggled to believe its validity. Kara was lousy at keeping secrets. Winn knew about the time she had stolen Tom Barts’ sandwich in the second grade because he was a bully and he had stolen it. Winn knew how Kara had apologized two days later because she had just felt so guilty.

“Of course, Deborah. Is she still in the same room?”

Then again, up until last week, Winn had been under the impression Kara had grown up alone and Mandy Chen had been her high school best friend. But according to Eliza Danvers, Mandy Chen was hardly a blip in Kara’s social radar.

Or well, a blip when compared to Alexandra Danvers.

“Of course, Mr. Schott. Only the best for, Mrs. Danvers.”

As Winn said his thanks and turned to walk down the hall, he wondered how much of “only the best” had more to do with Alex and J’onn than Kara and her celebrity status.

x

“Winn, do you believe in ghosts?”

The script was remarkable but it paled in comparison to the many dimensions of Kara Zorel – Danvers.

Perhaps it was what had made Kara into the brilliant actress she was; her ability to meld and form to any character and any role. There was no niche, just an excellence where she was set, like a seed planted and tendered to one-day blossom.

And blossoming she was. Or had been until the accident.

“Like the Ghostbusters kind or El Orfanato?”

Pensive was not one of the many shades of Kara Winn had seen outside of fictional sets or scripted reads. Or maybe it was and Winn had simply never been privy.

“Like… ghosts from your memories. Things that just don’t exist anymore but it’s… it’s like they’re all you have. Like they’re all you can smell and all you can feel.”

It felt wrong, to hear those words – feel those insecurities – and to know that just outside of the grips of Kara’s consciousness lingered perhaps that very ghost. To know that Alexandra Danvers lingered always just out of reach and to not be able to speak a word of it.

“Maybe- maybe it’s just… the medication they keep giving me and I mean my head has felt foggy ever since I woke up.”

It was killing him.

x

It had never crossed his mind that Alex held the power to provide visitation rights until the doctor pulled them aside, explaining the rules and stipulations.

“Alex has granted each of you permission to visit Mrs. Danvers.”

It was all serious and formal with eight-point font forms and clause after clause of legalities. Even Lucy looked overwhelmed and Winn knew she thrived in clauses and tiny font and legalities.

“When Mrs. Danvers regains consciousness she may be confused and easily disorientated. We have come to the consensus that it is best not to overwhelm her. We ask that you not introduce significant events or situations that have occurred since the accident.”

“So Alexandra Danvers?”

Winn didn’t understand why the straight forwardness of Lucy’s words hit him like a freight train but it hurt and Winn felt the axis of his existence teetering. It was any wonder what thoughts were racing through James’ mind. It was still a lot to take in, either way, and Winn wouldn’t be surprised if he folded like some cheap lawn chair.

James was a nice guy but a wife was a lot to take in.

“That is correct. We have agreed it would be for the best for Mrs. Danvers recovery.”

Winn wondered if we meant in part Alex.

x

“What is wrong with you- How can you just stand there and do nothing?!”

Hands running through his hair, Winn counted backwards from ten. He was angry. He never got angry.

And yet, Alex seemed to pull it out of him as if he hadn’t spent half of his life working meticulously towards taming it. As if Winn was the bag of potato chips down isle twelve and all Alex had to do was yoink.

When J’onn stood - frame towering and protective - and the nearby posted guard approached, Winn wondered if this was how he was going to go. If it was, the very least Alex could do was just tell Kara. Ease her growing trepidations. Do something other than stand by, hidden in the shadows but apparently still felt in every part of Kara’s subconscious.

It figured Alex would remain stoically closed off, shaking off both the guard’s and J’onn’s presence like a general turning away the support of their infantry.

“The posted security in this facility are not just to keep unwanted visitors out, Mr. Schott. I am sure the staff also appreciate calm, respectful guests while they do their work.”

Glancing over at the nursing station, Winn caught the looks of disappointment. They had expected better of him and if Winn was being honest, he did too.

But there was just something about Alex – rigid, aloof Alex – that wound Winn tighter than the spring of a child’s first Jack-in-the-Box.

x

When Winn was twelve he had listened to how his parents screamed, how things broke and how eventually one at a time they left, fading out of his life like early morning fog under the afternoon sun. Ever since that moment he supposed love was an idealization, built in darkness with the shortest of fuses.

Like a one hit wonder.

And nothing thus far had disproved him; not the soaring rate of divorce or the flourishing industry of fantasized realities.

True love didn’t exist and nothing lasted.

But perhaps Alexandra Danvers - hunched over the side of the hospital bed, reciting prose well worn and bound on Kara’s shelf from memory - ignited something. Made Winn silently wish for fairy tale endings and love indefinitely.

Because maybe, Winn knew how much Kara loved it. That book. And just maybe, it hurt a little too much when Kara asked him about ghosts and regrets and love. And just maybe, Winn wanted to believe because if anyone deserved fairy tale endings and love indefinitely it was Kara. 

x

“Why do you do that? Do all that and let him sweep in and take the credit?”

Winn likened talking to Alex like talking to a wall: it didn’t listen, it never offered words in return and more often than not, Winn just felt down right stupid when he turned to leave.

It wasn’t that he didn’t try. No, Winn had tried. But there were only so many times he was willing to have his attempted conversations kiboshed before thinking that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t worth it.

But of course, it only lasted so long and when Winn caught sight of Alex - tucked just out of Kara’s line of sight - it made it all the more difficult not to say something.

James and Kara looked happy. They laughed happy. But the tucked blankets, the selected meals, the stationary, even the supplies used to clean every inch of Kara’s room were all chosen by Alex. And James got all the credit. It wasn’t hard considering Kara’s assumptions and Alex’s distinct absence in Kara’s life.

“I mean; James doesn’t even know what she likes in her coffee let alone what detergent she prefers for her linens. But you do; you know what scents she likes for her linens, her preference in the order of her cutlery, and heck, even the arrangement and preferred count for her floral sets!”

If Winn was honest, he had stopped expecting anything from Alex unless it in some way made Kara more comfortable in her hospital room. So when Alex spoke, all low tones and broken, Winn wondered if maybe he had it all wrong.

“Because I never did them for credit. There is no score. Just what is right.”

Maybe Alex wasn’t all rigid and all aloof. Maybe Alex was just as broken as Kara and neither of them knew how to make it better again.

x

“I can’t believe them. They’re supposed to be your fans but… they’re crazy.”

It was an unwritten rule James had signed the moment he and Kara had chosen to pursue more than friendship. Fans were a given in the industry. No one just walked into the kind of lifestyle Kara lived and said ‘no thanks, just hold the fans’ like it was some optional topping on the dish. Part of Kara included the very public aspect: the fans and the media.

James knew that. Winn knew that. Heck, even rigid stoic Alexandra Danvers and her equally quiet friend, J’onn, probably knew that.

“That isn’t true. They just have really big hearts.”

And so did Kara, Winn observed.

Even frail and willowy, the blacks and blues and purples stark against her pale skin, Kara was still looking out for the well being of others. Others she didn’t know; might never know. Even when she had far greater issues to be concerned about; like the way her breathing stuttered when she got even the slightest bit anxious, like her body had forgotten how to draw breath. Or like when her muscles spasmed making simple tasks seemingly more difficult than climbing a mountain.

“Pfft, you’d probably forgive anyone. Even Alex.”

The silence in the room felt deafening and Winn wished for a magical button that could erase the tumultuous wave of emotions contorting Kara’s features: confusion, agony, betrayal. But there was no magic button and as the world seemed to regain its speed, Winn wished instead for time. Time to make things better.

Personally, Winn had nothing against James.

He was a good guy with a good head on his shoulders and a respectable career in free lance journalism.

But sometimes he could just be an idiot and his ugly green head of jealousy became a little too much. Sometimes, Winn wished James would just keep his mouth shut and his jealousy in check and remember that this wasn’t the time for everything to be about him.

“Wh-what did you just say?”

It sounded part broken, part livid, and Winn felt trepidation for the way Kara’s body shook like a leaf amidst a storm, teetering on the edge of separation. Kara was bright, bubbly, and sometimes frustrated, sometimes sad. But more often than not she was this eternal fountain of optimism. 

“Shit, no. Kara. I didn’t-“

“What did you say!”

Her breathing was short and erratic and Winn wondered if maybe he should pull the cord, call the nurses. Because either Kara was going to pass out or she was going to lunge and then pass out. Either way, none of it sounded good and Kara just needed to rest and to heal and to be okay again.

“Look, Kara, forget what I said. It was stupid and-“

Winn silently agreed, it was stupid. But the world didn’t work in take backs and some magical rewind button.

“Get out.”

Outside the room, Winn heard the sound of voices and commotion. When the staff entered, pushing past his body and towards Kara, Winn was hardly surprised.

“Kara, I-“

The narrowed eyes of the staff and the unspoken ushering was all Winn needed. It wasn’t like he wanted to leave Kara – trembling and broken – but Winn knew there were no words that could fix this.

“Now!”

In the hall, Winn noticed how equally anxious Alex looked.

Winn wasn’t a betting man but if he was he would bet Alex was internally berating herself. She had that same look he did, pinched into the corners of her brow when Winn felt his worth stripped and his inner voice taking hold in the most volatile of ways.

Pressing his back into the white washed wall, Winn allowed his body to sink, settling down beside the form of Alexandra Danvers.

“You’re stupid.”

If J’onn looked every part offended, Winn never saw, his attention focused on the small off white speck on the wall ahead and the gut wrenching sobs from the room behind him. It was heart breaking and Winn didn’t understand how Alex could just be.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/155948170765/under-these-fluorescent-lights-2)


	13. claire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It felt uncomfortable. The mattress was firm - unyielding to her form - and the sheets too thin, too rough.
> 
>  _“Can’t sleep?”_ Alex asked from the entrance of the room.
> 
> Much like the first time they had met, Claire noticed the way the woman leaned into the frame, casual and yet attentive.

It felt uncomfortable. The mattress was firm - unyielding to her form - and the sheets too thin, too rough.

 _“Can’t sleep?”_ Alex asked from the entrance of the room.

Much like the first time they had met, Claire noticed the way the woman leaned into the frame, casual and yet attentive.

 _“This bed makes me uncomfortable,”_ Claire responded honestly. It made no sense to lie - it did nothing to alleviate her discomfort.

“Scooch over.”

The word held no meaning to Claire and her brow creased in confusion. Only when Alex made a simple back and forth motion with her hands, did Claire think to move, shuffling herself over to one side of the bed.

 _“Kara used to hate the beds too.”_ Alex claimed as she settled in beside Claire, maintaining a respectable distance between them. _“I used to find her tucked under the table or out in the grass.”_

Grass did not, or rather had not, existed on Krypton. Vegetation belong to select sectors and private gardens but never as far as the eye could see or in patches called lawns. Its very existence fascinated Claire and with this new found knowledge, Claire wondered if she shouldn’t do the same. There was a small patch nearby, she had seen it from the window. _“May I…”_ Claire trailed off, unsure if it would be appropriate to ask.

 _“Sleep in the grass?”_ Alex guessed, turning onto her side so Claire could see her face fully. Her expression looked contorted, _“Not here. People don’t like that here.”_

 _“Do humans not like comfort, Alexandra Danvers?”_ It baffled Claire the lengths which Earth seemed determine to torture itself.

_“No, they do. Just not to the same degree Krypton would. Kara used to ask why we couldn’t be more forward.”_

Claire had echoed the sentiment - in mind - several times since her arrival. Earth seemed so focused on the way it appeared that it lost its ability to connect; to communicate; to develop. _“If it is not appropriate to seek comfort in this way, what might you suggest?”_ Trapping her lower lip between her teeth, Claire ruminated, _“Sleep is not critical. I might pass the time in other ways, perhaps. I saw bound covers. I believed you called them books?”_

Chuckling, Alex opened her arms, gesturing Claire closer, _“Sleep might not be critical but that never stopped Kara from growing skittish or hyper aware.”_

At a still respectable distance, Claire paused, unsure what came next. The unasked question was answered when the open arms wrapped around her shoulders, drawing her in. The stiffness ingrained through years of edict took only a moment to fade, surprising Claire.

Allowing her head to rest against the rough material of the human’s chest, Claire heard - _felt_ \- each beat. There was the steady intake and exhale. The whoosh of blood. The hum of neural impulses.

Claire couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when she fell asleep, only the security and comfort she felt. Perhaps at some point, Claire had heard another, one that added yet another layer of warmth and tranquility that Claire knew could be only fleeting at best.

Waking in the protective hold of not one but two pairs of arms enthralled Claire and the feeling of home swelled tenfold in her chest. It reminded her of the rarest of moments - after only the extremest of terrors - when she was granted permission to adjoin her parents. There was no greater comfort than being cocooned by their love and warmth.

Except perhaps this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/149114968578/claire)


	14. Earth to Space, I’m lost somewhere between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Earth to Space, come in.”
> 
> Kara cocked her head.

“Kara, this is your fifth pair of laces,” Alex huffed as she relaced the white sneakers for what felt like the millionth time that week.

“I am sorry, Alexandra Danvers,” apologized Kara. Her stance was rigid - awkward beside Alex’s stooping shoulders and blasé attitude.

“Alex,” Alex corrected, setting down the newly laced shoes, “Sit.”

Kara scrambled forward.

She felt clumsy, unaccustomed to the way her limbs moved under Earth’s yellow sun. Once simple tasks felt behemoth and in a world with sounds, sights and nuances she didn’t quite understand, Kara felt very alone.

“You have to tie it like this.”

Kara watched as Alex looped the laces: over, under, something about a bunny’s ear.

“And don’t pull so hard, ‘kay? Just a light tug. Your laces aren’t made of steel.”

Head bobbing up and down, Kara watched Alex recede: always there but whenever Kara tried to follow, she was always just out of reach. Like a shadow.

A light tap, barely noticeable, drew Kara from her thoughts.

“Earth to Space, come in.”

Kara cocked her head.

She had heard the reference before. Alex had thought it extremely humorous. To Kara it seemed highly inaccurate. She was, after all, not the entirety of space - a system which encompassed Earth - and Alex was certainly not a planet.

And yet, it made Kara’s heart leap: the way the edges of Alex’s lips curled upward, the way her eyes gleamed and - if Rao had blessed Kara - the way Alex laughed.

“Space reporting,” Kara repeated the words Alex had once told her.

It felt awkward and wrong to lie over such trivial matters. But the way Alex bent over, laughing whole heartedly until she could laugh no more, made Kara wonder if all deceits were truly harmful.

Her mother had said it was poor practice to lie and deceive but the small lie seemed to bring so much joy to the normally stoic child of the Danvers.

It was in moments like these, when Kara felt most conflicted. She wished her mother had not died and her planet had not been destroyed. Perhaps then, Kara might finally have the answers to the questions that Earth had created like a plague within her.

“Come on, Space.”

Kara felt her body shift to the right. Alex had shifted her weight against her, throwing her centre off ever so. Like what Kara had learned gravity did to those on Earth.

“It’s just a shoe lace. The world won’t end if you accidentally break another one. Remember: light tug.”

“Light tug,” reiterated Kara more to appease Alex then commit the directive to memory.

“Who knows, maybe if you break another pair, my mom will get you one of those Velcro shoes. I hear they’re all the rage.”

Kara failed to understand why anger was something Alex would praised but again Alex smiled and Kara felt her step falter.

In silence, Kara prayed to Rao.

“You okay there, Space?”

“Most excellent.” 

Such little lies.

It made Kara’s stomach churn and her breath falter.

And yet those tiny lies exposed a side in Alex, Kara found herself rarely privileged to see. Like the young Danvers had bottled up the joy that lingered within and on occasion, allowed the lid to slip. Just ever so.

Scuffing the toe of her shoe against the dirt, a cloud of dust left in her wake, Kara wondered: what was truth; what was lie; and where did the line draw for omissible.

As it always did, the silent sky never answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/150776907577/earth-to-space-im-lost-somewhere-between)


	15. claire 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kara 2.0. That’s just,” Winn stared in awe, “Amazing.”

“Kara 2.0. That’s just,” Winn stared in awe, “Amazing.”

James was less than impressed. “So she just what, landed in the wrong place?” His arms remained cross, wary of the pseudo-Kara that had attached herself to Alex’s side.

Wonder mixed with terror settled in the pit of Kara’s stomach, curious and painful all at once. This _her_ was really her; from the way she spoke to the very molecular blueprint that they were made of. And yet, part of Kara felt as though something was fundamentally different. It lingered just outside of reach, frustratingly close and yet still too far.

“Kara?”

“Huh?” _“Yes?”_

The room fell silent; some in awe, others in confusion.

“Perhaps, for the time being, it would be best to use another name.” J’onn glanced between the Kara he had come to know and the much younger version.

“Oh! Like in-” Winn continued to speak but the words failed to register; like a foreign language, all sound, no meaning.

Different names made sense. Yet being Kara… Becoming Kara Danvers had stripped Kara of one of the most fundamental parts of who she was; who she knew herself to be. The House of El was a proud, noble house and its very name carried with it an understanding of the responsibility its members would always face. Zor-el had been stripped from her and Kara was the only thing left that was truly hers.

“Sir, it isn’t that simple.” Alex’s voice was the calm that settled Kara in a way no human administered drug could. No matter how much remained unspoken, Alex would always be the calm to Kara’s life. “It’s more than just a name.”

“Then what might you recommend, Agent Danvers?”

“Give me some time.” It was a simple request and yet only Kara and J’onn seemed to understand. No one had had to lose everything the way they had. To assume identities they weren’t. To conform to a norm that would never quite feel right.

Hands on hips, J’onn as Hank Henshaw nodded, “You have 24 hours. After that, I will decide.” Gaze drifting from Alex to Kara, J’onn seemed to take caution with his next words, “And I will leave this new visitor to your care, Supergirl. You have the assistance of the D.E.O. but perhaps it would be best for Earth’s newest visitor to be with someone more…. Familiar.”

-

_“I wish to keep my name, Alexandra Danvers.”_

“Alex,” she amended. It was a reflexive response to a name Alex had long despised. _“I understand. Names on Krypton were very important, right?”_

Shoulders drawn, chin high, the young Kara nodded, _“That is correct, Alexan- Alex.”_ Scrunching her brow, confusion seemed to ooze from the Kryptonian, _“Are they not here? Is this why you do not wish to be called by your own?”_

It was that moment when Kara - Supergirl - chose to join. Out of habit, Kara nestled into the couch cushion adjacent Alex, _“One’s name is important on Earth. Like a stationing index in the matrix.”_

If Alex hadn’t had this conversation nearly a decade ago, confusion would have surely settled on her features. But they had. A decade ago.

_“Often, names are shortened as a sign of affection - given by close friends, family.”_

_“But you do not like the name Alexandra.”_

Alex winced. Kara had once said those same words. Unintentionally, they had cut like a knife. If Alex was honest, they still stung.

 _“You’re right, I don’t,”_ Alex acquiesced knowing full well she held the rapt attention of both Kryptonian’s present: one in concern the other in curiosity. _“When I was younger than you, Alexandra was used to communicate disappointment, failure and fault. My dad was the first one to call me Alex. I was his little Alex.”_

Never once had Alex imagined she would be having this conversation again. With an alternative version of the first person she’d ever had it with no less. She had also never imagined the tiny warm arm that slipped around her shoulder and across the back of her neck that drew her into an awkward three way hug.

It was different than when Kara had first dropped from the sky into her life. 

It felt a little like the surge of protectiveness Alex eventually felt for her new alien friend. But mostly, it felt maternal.

Wrapping her arm around the young Kryptonian’s back, Alex sighed. With Kara on her right and this young Kara in her lap, Alex couldn’t stop the riptide of emotions, the feeling of unity and of family. Like this was hers and no one could hurt them.

_“Will you help me choose a wise name?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/149399220848/claire)


	16. a journey to become; torn knees, battered heart, I just want to live pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tragedy of life is often not in our failure, but rather in our complacency; not in our doing too much, but rather in our doing too little; not in our living above our ability; but rather in our living below our capacities.
> 
> Benjamin E. Mays

“I am doing the best I can!”

It feels like a confession, an admission to a lie; cumbersome and heavy. Things _aren’t_ better than this. _This_ is the best you can offer.

The silence is stifling. It steals your breath and arrests your heart. You’re dying and the only cure lies in the words you can’t make, the sounds you can’t hear, and the lies you can’t tell.

The door that clicks shut is the gentle tap, the proverbial nail to the coffin. It feels like a bullet, torn through your heart. It leaves behind a mess - barely recognizable bits of a once strong heart, a once living soul.

As you crumple to the ground - cold and unforgiving on your broken form - bubbled laughter, more akin to a broken sob than jubilance, burst from your lungs. How fitting you think, the cold floor and open air your only companions. They offer no solace to the quandary.

If only you could have been better.

-

“Doctor Danvers, do you have a moment?”

Swiveling her chair round, Alex smiled at the labs newest addition - _Grierson_ \- a sentiment surely lost behind the pleated surgical mask, “Just Alex, Grierson. We’re all people. I put my pants on the same way you do. What’s up?”

The intern blushed, nodding his head so fiercely his charcoal grey slim tie seemed to gain a life all its own, “Right. Course,” the thick frames of his rectangular glasses slide down the bridge of his nose, instinctually being pushed back up, “I was hoping, again if you have a moment, if you could provide any insight on my research proposal.”

Motioning to the fumigation hood behind her and the samples within, Alex nodded, “Of course. I just have a few preparations to finish. Pull up a chair, Grierson, I’ll just be a moment.”

-

The apartment was quiet when she entered - it always was.

Her black leather coat clung like a second skin. Often times, colleagues would comment, suggest new brands, new styles. But Alex preferred it that way. Even if it was a size too small - a size she’d grown since her early adult years - the coat would be something she wore into her dying days.

“Hey Phen,” she greeted with a gentle nudge of her toe against the feline pressing into her leg.

He was a rescue. Alex had found him attempting to navigate the waste bins outside the apartment. His patterns suggested a Siberian breed and his propensity for alienating all forms of life, with the exception of Alex, seemed rather ironic to the biomedical engineer.

“What do you want to eat tonight?” she asked curiously as he walked faithfully by her side to stand before the fridge.

Staring down the barren contents of the fridge, nose scrunched and brows furrowed, Alex let the door swing shut. Phen meowed.

“It was your turn to shop, Phen! I told you,” Alex joked good-naturedly with the cat, chuckling at the apparent objection the cat offered in return, “Of course, how could I forget. Take out it is. How does Thai sound?”

Alex would never admit it, but Phen’s appearance had been a saving grace to a very downward spiral.

-

“How have you been, Alex?”

“Good. Better.”

“How has work been?”

“Another day, another test,” Alex joked. It still felt awkward. She still felt awkward.

“And your homework? How did that go?”

Patting the notebook tucked safely in her satchel, Alex offered the best quasi-smile she could muster. It felt more like a grimace, “Good. I have it here if you’d like to see.”

It felt all kinds of awkward and it made Alex squirm on the white leather - faux leather? - couch. But she wouldn’t change it. She needed this. God knows she needed more than this. But for now, this would have to do.

“I had another one. It felt like I was dying - suffocating and gutting,” closing her eyes, Alex exhaled heavily, “It was terrifying. All over again.”

-

“I think I’ve got it!”

With a wide smile, Alex clasped the young man on the shoulder, “Well done, Grierson.” Peering down at his work, months of preparation followed by over a year of work in corroboration with other institutes, Alex knew he would do amazing things. One day. If he chose to. “Shall we review it?”

It was late. The other members of the lab had long left and the sun had followed shortly after. Alex had been preparing for a lecture she would be teaching the following morning and a large part of her wanted nothing more than to leave, go home, rest.

But the way his eyes glistened in excitement and his joy bubbled out in the up and down shake of his legs, Alex knew she was making the right choice.

“So, whatcha got?” She asked, dragging over the nearest chair.

-

Alex set the book down.

It hurt. The words on the page. The realities it unearthed. She couldn’t change the past; no matter how hard she tried, how hard she wished, or how hard she begged. No matter how much guilt she piled high on her shoulders and no matter how much she worried over what once was, it would never change her future. That was what her therapist said.

Therapist.

How clinical.

Eyeing the book that now rest on the floor - a coffee table was too much effort and Alex couldn’t be bothered to own furniture she didn’t need - she sighed. She was fodder for therapists; she was clinical. But Alex was done trying to pretend like she knew the answers to her failing life, tired of pretending she could go it alone.

Phen mewed softly, his paw planting oddly against Alex’s cheek. She wasn’t the only one with nightmares and a previous life of haunting. Maybe, one day, they could both be okay again. Just okay. Alex would be okay with that.

_I am doing the best I can._

Or maybe, maybe she wasn’t.

-

Alex coughed, attempting to hide her mirth behind her fist, as Grierson offered the most awkward of soothing pats to the back of his fellow lab member. Vasquez’s sobs goodbye always made the interns a little uncomfortable. That amount of mucus and hyperventilation would make anyone slightly uncomfortable.

Five years had given Alex some immunity. Well, at least when others where the victim of drowning tears and vice grip goodbye hugs. 

“Okay, V,” Alex intervened when the unnatural hue of blue began showing even on his dark skin, “You’re going to kill the boy, let go,” she said with a shooing motion.

“Thanks,” Grierson said with a lopsided smile, his signature tie creased and askew, “I appreciate it, Dr. Danvers.”

Alex chuckled at the way the formality still slipped out. Even with two years of constant insistence and reminders.

“You’re a good guy, Grierson,” Alex said as she drew the young man down and into a side hug, “Cambridge is going to be lucky to have you.” Alex hated goodbyes and Grierson’s addition to the team had been a warm change. He brought a soft spirit, open curiosity and hunger to learn that was rare. Alex would miss him.

Wrapping his arms about Alex and drawing her a foot off the ground, Grierson smiled brightly, “Thank you for everything, Dr. Danvers. I am going to make you proud.”

“You already have, Grierson. You already have.”

-

“Is everything alright, Alex? You seem a bit out of sorts.”

“A young man - brilliant, kind-hearted, and genuine - was offered a position in a prestigious doctoral program overseas. Today was his last day.”

“That is an amazing opportunity for the young man and his future.”

“I know.”

“Does it bother you?”

Sinking back into the couch - faux leather - Alex prayed to all the Gods she didn’t believe in. She prayed that this couch - faux leather couch - would part at the seams and swallow her whole. Erase her from existence.

“It’s selfish. I know. He just,” Alex bit back her tears - a mixture of frustration and sorrow - her hands bunching the edge of her shirt with enough force to hurt. If fabric could feel. Alex wished it could. Then maybe, it would feel a fraction of the hurt she felt. “They were similar. And I’m losing someone all over again.”

Alex knew her therapist couldn’t take away the pain; couldn’t take away the way it made her heart break and her chest clench. But for once, Alex wished it wouldn’t hurt so very much.

“He hasn’t left you, Alex. He didn’t leave to hurt you. No one has.”

“She did.”

“Love isn’t that easy, Alex.”

“It sure felt like it was for her.”

-

Phen meowed.

Alex refused to move. To answer his cries of concern and perhaps hunger. Alex just wanted to lay until the particles in her body deteriorated, becoming one with the ceramic white of the tub in a last desperate attempt to exist.

Phen landed on her stomach - likely having scaled the toilet to have achieved such a feat. Alex felt breathless. She should have filled the tub with water. It would have kept him out, “Phen, out,” Alex wheezed, “Can’t you see I’m wallowing? Let me wallow, damn it!”

Leave it to the cat to suddenly feign ignorance, settling down so close on her chest that his paws pressed into the soft flesh of her neck and his nose nearly touched her chin.

“Phen, go,” Alex tried in another weak attempt. It did nothing to deter the feline.

Grudgingly accepting the company, Alex wrapped her arms up and over his out stretched form. In the tub of her dingy apartment, Alex fell apart, the sobs catching in the soft grey white fur. What escaped, caught on the walls of the room, sounding every bit haunted and forlorn.

-

The book sailed across the room, landing with a thud when it collided with the wall. Floorbound. Like how Alex felt. Trapped by factors she couldn’t control.

Curling up in the middle of the floor, Alex barked out a laugh. It sounded spiteful; angry. The floor was still cold, still unforgiving.

Only this time as she broke apart, a small warm ball of fur cuddled against her head. Suffocating in kindness and understanding.

“Why, Phen? Why? Am I not worth staying by?”

-

“I didn’t do it,” admitted Alex as she sunk into the white cushions - faux leather, “I just cried. Like some weeping, helpless sap. I wasn’t an adult. I wasn’t composed.”

“Everyone cries, Alex. Even adults. It’s okay to cry.”

Cursing at the warmth prickling the corners of her eyes, Alex traced invisible patterns into the white stucco: a cloud; an erlenmeyer flask; Phen. “Then why does it feel so wrong? Why do I feel _pathetic_? Why can’t _I_ be better? Tell me why!”

“I don’t know why, Alex. For everyone it’s different but we all pick it up somehow. At some point. But that doesn’t make it right. You _are_ enough, Alex. You _are_ normal. What you’re feeling _is_ normal. Where did you learn that who you are isn’t enough, Alex? Who taught you that it’s wrong to experience these emotions?”

The burning rage deflated from the marrow of her being, sinking Alex further into the couch - faux leather. For once, Alex didn’t wish it would open its maw, swallow her whole. No, now? Now she wished it would infuse an understanding and insight Alex seemed to lack. Here. In this area. Called life.

“I don’t- I don’t know. I’ve always felt like I was never enough - could never be enough. Like the moment I was born, I was born unworthy and inadequate.” Pressing the heels of her palms into the sockets of her eyes, Alex tried to visualize the words. Of the book. On her floor. Pages bent. Cover dented.

“Have you ever considered, Alex, that the way you’ve felt isn’t the truth?”

“But what about-” the words flowed from her before she could think and Alex had to bite down hard to prevent what might come next.

But maybe her therapist did know her better than Alex had ever given her credit, “What about what your mother said? What all the other people said?”

Alex nodded timidly.

“Has it ever occurred to you, Alex, that they might be wrong?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/149594578893/a-journey-to-become-torn-knees-battered-heart-i)


	17. Under These Fluorescent Lights 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that’s holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake.”
> 
> Elizabeth Gilbert

“I want to talk to Alex.”

It was the tone, detached and formal that caught Winn off guard.

“Kara, I don’t think-“

Before Lucy was ever Kara’s agent, Lucy had been her friend. Would always be her friend. She was the one Winn knew Kara called in excitement or when her shoulders felt heavy with unending expectations. Lucy was reason and stability.

“I am not signing anything until I talk to my wife.”

But under the florescent lighting, Lucy negotiating nondisclosure agreements and divorce clauses, Kara looked more like a stranger than a friend and Winn wondered if Lucy saw it too.

“Kara, please, would you just-“

If Winn thought Kara had closed off under the scrutiny of James and his questioning around Alex, he was wrong. Because this Kara looked like a stone wall with no notable features and no clear entrance to what lie beneath.

x  
_  
“Sign it.”_

_It had been a rough day on set. The site was understaffed – some bug going around – and the guy covering on sound just couldn’t seem to get anything right. Winn could have sworn he heard ‘cut’ and ‘get that boom mic out of the shot’ more today than over the entire duration of his seven-year career._

_“No.”_

_Winn skidded to a stop._

_“Look, if you want what is best for Kara yo-“_

_Around the corner, Winn heard Lucy and the singular response of Alexandra Danvers._

_“Might I suggest that you choose your next words carefully, Ms. Lane. Threats are not something I take lightly.”_

_It was the most Winn had ever heard J’onn speak._

_Around the hushed whispers and pointed stares, Winn had imagined little from the looming man. But this was strong, authoritative, and if Winn was quite honest, terrifying. It reminded him of when he was nine and the corner shop owner had caught him attempting to sneak off with a handful of unpaid for gummies._

_“I could say the same for you, Mr. J’onzz. I imagine you understand the severity of the situation should this information find its way into the hands of the press. For yourself and for my client.”_

_Winn had always disliked Lucy in work mode. It was like she could become this other person who didn’t awe over cute dog videos or sing ‘I Just Can’t Wait to Be King’ while cooking eggs. It felt a little like whiplash and a lot like the crushing reality of the life he had chosen to live._

_“I am not the one demanding anyone sign legal documents, Ms. Lane. And should this information find its way into the hands of the press or the public, The Aurora Organization is prepared.”_

_It sounded a lot more like strategizing for war than damage control and not for the first time Winn wondered just who these stoic forms were._

x

At face value, Eliza Danvers was a highly successful researcher. She had achieved great accolades in her chosen profession and had become an inspiration to many either entering into the field or currently a handful of years in.

Her personal life had been marked by tragedy when her husband of eighteen years had passed in a work related accident, leaving Eliza behind to care for their two teenage children. But through it all she had persevered and had continued to live an abundant life.

“You aren’t twelve anymore, Alexandra. It is time you stop playing house and make believe. Kara did and look how wonderful she is doing now.”

Under the glow of the fluorescent lighting, hidden and tucked away from plain sight, Winn felt the tendrils of familiarity slipping away. The posture was foreign, the edge to her voice unthinkable, cutting like a knife Winn had never knew existed.

Winn might not have denied it before, but there was no denying now how very much Kara was _struggling and pretending_. Externally, Kara had soared. But internally, Winn realised she might just have been crumbling all along and Winn wondered if Eliza had ever seen it. Or maybe she had never wanted to.

“I let you get away with those perverse ideas as a child. I should have listened to your father. But I didn’t and look at what happened?”

Nothing about this Eliza Danvers was the woman Kara had ever described nor was she the woman that had settled beside him, sharing for hours’ tales of a much younger Kara and an apparently much more talkative Alex.

“Your father would be so disappointed in you.”

For the first time, Winn wished the ominously looming form of J’onn was present. It might not have spared the words, but it might have raised the slump in Alexandra Danvers’ shoulders or have given her fuel to fight back. This Alex needed fuel - needed something - under what Winn knew to be one of the deepest cuts: the rejection from a loved one.

x

“So this is where you stay.”

Winn had always wondered how over the past few weeks Alex had never appeared to leave but had always remained well kept.

Here, tucked away in what he presumed was one of the doctor’s offices, Winn finally had his answer.

The space seemed complete with a functional mattress and what Winn presumed to be a private bathroom. He had never meant to stumble across Alex, but he had always wondered and when he had seen Alex disappearing into an unfamiliar area of the hospital, he had grown curious.

“It’s nice.”

But it felt invasive – Alex toweling her hair dry and seemingly startled by the sudden intrusion.

“Sorry, I’ll just-“

Exiting into the hall, Winn refused to turn back, purposely returning to the room which he knew housed Kara.

x

“-a game?”

“No.”

“Then why…”

It felt like an invasion he had never intended to lead.

The door had been left propped open ever so slightly and Winn had just heard the most ridiculous of things on set. All he had wanted to do was tell Kara in person, to share some snippet of the world she had been ripped so suddenly from.

“I’m sorry.”

Alex was never supposed to be there. She was never meant to sound all broken hearted and every bit lost.

“I want to believe you, Alex, so much. But you left and I just… I don’t know what to believe any more.”

Nor was Kara – bright bubbly Kara.

Hovering just outside the room, Winn prayed. He prayed for a way to mend broken hearts because Winn wasn’t sure there was enough time to heal them before they bled out.

x

“Why?”

The sun was setting on a comparatively uneventful day.

If Winn was to be honest, he was shocked that nothing had leaked to the press. From the marriage to the breakup to the apparent negatively of Eliza, it gave opportunity after opportunity for something to slip, to get into the hands of people who wouldn’t see the current events as private but as money, livelihood.

Winn watched as Kara looked up from the book she was reading in bewilderment. Over the course of the past hour, neither had spoken a word. There had been no topic of discussion and no unanswered questions from the previous day.

“Why what, Winn?”

Off the top of his head, Winn could list two dozen questions all of which he did not know why and had at some point plagued his thoughts. But all paled in comparison to the elephant that had lingered in the room ever since Kara had first spoken of ghosts and memories and Winn had thought her heart would never mend.

“Why Alex? When it could literally crumble everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve… I mean she abandoned you for how many years, Kara!”

Alex seemed okay – or at least like she cared in some strange way Winn wasn’t sure most people could recognize. But what Alex represented was heartache and trouble and an unsure risk of future flight. And that was the last thing Winn ever wanted for Kara to experience. Again.

“You probably think I’m stupid. Heh, sometimes I think I’m stupid.”

It was self depreciating and not the way Winn had ever wanted this conversation to go. But as Kara struggled over her words and Winn clamped down on his, he wondered if perhaps there hadn’t been any other way this conversation could possibly go.

At least Kara was talking to him.

“Alex left. She walked out of our marriage before it truly had a chance to even start and to most people… that would be enough.”

If it wasn’t for the weakened state of her body, Winn imagined Kara would have drawn in, arms wrapping around knees as they nestled against her chest.

“I told Lucy when things really started to pick up and she said she could dissolve it. I mean, Alex had been gone so long, I thought maybe she-“

Died.

Suddenly, Winn realised that the people Kara had loved most in life had never left of their own volition. Whether it was her parents, her aunt, or her adoptive father, each had left but never intentionally. All Kara had likely expected to return that night through the front door with worn or beaming smiles.

So when Alex had left and she had not returned that night or for the many after, Kara must have felt the same helplessness, the same pain, all over again.

Winn hated Alexandra Danvers all the more.

“But I knew… There are probably a dozen reasons why it shouldn’t be Alex. But they never outweighed why I should. Alex always brought out of me the best. She was this mirror to a part of me I didn’t realise was broken. She made me feel loved when everyone else made me feel tolerated.”

“But Kara-“

Winn had read how victims of abuse or those who clung too much to something that gave too little – stole from them and hurt them – often defended the situation or the individual who had caused them great hurt.

“Sometimes being with Alex felt like dependency; like I needed her to breathe, I needed her to see, to walk, to live life and to be happy. But when Lucy proposed the dissolvement, when my career started to blossom, when James asked me on a date, I realised it was never dependency.”

In the dying rays of the sun, Winn watched as Kara smiled, reminiscent of a realisation that had allowed her more than just acceptance. It had allowed her peace and belief and the ability to move forward in a way nothing else could.

“Until she disappeared, Alex inspired me to overcome my fears everyday by standing to her own day in, day out. She gave her all even when I felt I had nothing to give.”

Under the pale florescent lights, Winn realised it would always be Alex no matter how far or how long they might be apart. Because Kara believed Alex made her better; like a mirror to her darkest corners, illuminating. Because until Alex had broken herself, she had always remained, navigating the dark hand in hand as best she could.

But Alex wasn’t that anymore and Winn wondered if Kara would ever accept that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/158354281840/under-these-fluorescent-lights-3)


	18. claire 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is it common for Houses to live in separate dwellings on this planet?” Claire asked earnestly, wandering from Kara’s room into the living room.

_“Is it common for Houses to live in separate dwellings on this planet?”_ Claire asked earnestly, wandering from Kara’s room into the living room.

Cocking her head, Kara stared curiously at the younger version of herself, _“What do you mean?”_ Kara was still trying to wrap her head around other Universe Kara, often forgetting that Kara –herself, not really herself –mini her? had never experienced Earth the way she had.

 _“Have you forgotten our customs? The acceptance of any member into a House, on Krypton, is marked by bonding ceremonies and assimilation. Was the House of Danvers not of sufficient nobility and strength?”_ Eyeing Kara up and down, the younger Kryptonian huffed, _“That seems unlikely. I wish to reside with my future bonded. She is of great intellect, strength and heart.”_

Like a fish out of water, Kara gaped, _“We– she– I- Earth doesn’t-“_ Kara’s face felt overwhelmingly flush, her arms flailing about wildly, _“It’s different!”_ The pitch was painfully high.

It was in that moment that Alex entered Kara’s apartment, shuffling in with several bags of take out in hand, oblivious to the eyes upon her, “I think they gave me extra pot stickers.”

“Alex!” Kara squeaked, rushing to stand behind Alex, motioning frantically to her younger self across the room. No words slipped past her lips though and the motioning was nothing shy of puzzling.

“Hi to you too?” asked Alex hesitantly, setting the plastic bags on the island. Kara’s closeness and sudden inability to compose words left Alex silently asking Claire for the punch line it seemed she had missed. What Alex didn’t see was Kara’s apparent telepathy to her younger self.

 _“It seems I must acknowledge my swift decline in intellect if I remain on this planet,”_ Claire groused, making a beeline for the tiny white bags and the pleasant smell that wafted from within.

“Okay…. She has your appetite,” tsked Alex, shooing away the prying hands of both Kara’s.

Pot stickers were apparently the Kryponian equivalent of catnip and Alex wondered if Clarke would react the same. “Hey!” Alex yelped as Kara managed to snag a pot sticker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/158891969780/claire)


	19. Earth to Space, don’t forget to breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What is it like? Up there.”
> 
> “It’s cold. Like if someone threw you in a tub of ice water. You can’t breath… But it’s beautiful,” admitted Kara in wonder.

“What is it like? Up there.”

“It’s cold. Like if someone threw you in a tub of ice water. You can’t breath… But it’s beautiful,” admitted Kara in wonder.

“How is that beautiful?” Alex asked skeptically. Like the notion of cold, breathless and beautiful hardly belonged together.

“There are no city lights, no human made noise. It’s just you and the vastness of space.”

“But you can’t breathe,” retorted Alex.

“No, but I could see the stars; clear and unobstructed,” Kara recalled, arms sweeping above her and toward the night sky, “And for once, I felt normal. Human.”

“Was it worth it?”

“That… That isn’t fair,” stammered Kara. Her tongue caught awkwardly and the words she had perfected felt foreign.

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

They had been here. Run these lines. Played these games.

“I don’t.” The shrug seemed casual, careless.

“You do. And it hurts,” Kara admitted, curling into herself ever so slightly. Like the world felt cold and suddenly Kara was freezing.

Kara never felt cold.

“I’m sorry.”

It was the lie that rolled easy, like a rock falls to Earth, caught by gravity.

“No you’re not.”

“I could pretend.”

“Please don’t.”

“Why not? You’re earthbound, Space. Stuck with me in the muck of it. Noise, super strength and all. But you’d rather die - cold and alone and suffocating - all for the vastness of space. Did I get any of that wrong?”

“Alex, please-”

“I get it,” huffed Alex as she rose, dusting the dirt from the back of her pants, “Earth is lame. No one good enough here. Whatever.”

“Alex,” pleaded Kara to the empty space now beside her.

They’d had these words before, a mixture of emotions Kara couldn’t place.

Alex always left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/151706266778/earth-to-space-dont-forget-to-breathe)


	20. claire 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was too much. The way everything seemed to collapse and collide like a violent riptide, bubbling and frothing and violent. It mixed with the blood-curdling cries, last breathes and the stench of death.

It was too much. The way everything seemed to collapse and collide like a violent riptide, bubbling and frothing and violent. It mixed with the blood-curdling cries, last breathes and the stench of death. 

_“Claire!”_

Claire could hear everything and it hurt everywhere.

_“Claire!”_

The pressure behind her eyes built and the glasses failed to dull the pain. The breathing techniques escaped her - her breaths coming in short, sputtering gasps, an invisible force heavy on her chest - and no matter how hard she tried, Claire could not make out the beat of Alex or Kara’s heart.

She was alone. All over again.

Blue, red and gold whizzed by, shock waves emanating as it collided with the lumbering figure. There were voices followed by a barrage of bullets and commands.

For a moment Claire heard it - strong and reassuring - and then it was erratic, almost faint. A cry so full of anguish followed. It felt like dying while living, being flayed open without anesthesia, losing Krypton again and again and again.

“No!”

There was a warmth trickling down her cheek, thicker than water and smelling of iron. Her eyes burned, the vision cloudy and out of focus. It was blue and red and gold and black.

“Alex!”

A sinking feeling settled in her gut and suddenly it was like she was underwater and the only thing Claire could hear clearly were Kara’s heart breaking sobs and the too faint beat of Alex’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/157487260992/claire)


	21. a journey to become; torn knees, battered heart, I just want to live pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all make mistakes, have struggles, and even regret things in our past. But you are not your mistakes, you are not your struggles, and you are here now with the power to shape your day and your future.
> 
> Steve Maraboli

“Hey.”

The voice drew Alex from her work. Not that she was really working. More like staring blankly. “He-” coughing away the disuse in her voice, Alex attempted again, “Hey V, what’s up? How did the field samples turn out?”

Alex withered under the gaze of her friend: heavy, scrutinizing, but never expectant. Maybe that’s what drew Alex to the passionately ranting student oh so many years ago. Big heart. No expectation. God knows Alex always failed them anyways.

“You’re beating yourself up again.” Vasquez said, like she was privy to the internal monologue Alex barely understood herself.

Grabbing the nearest chair, Vasquez settled in: one small lunchbox between them and an ominous stack of papers just out of Alex’s reach. Popping a grape, Vasquez grabbed the first paper.

Following suit, grape popped into her mouth, Alex smiled. Vasquez always got it; got her. Rifling through the stationary holder on her desk, Alex wordlessly slid the pink ink fine point Sharpie across the desk surface, earning her a broad smile and affirmative nod.

Maybe she knew Vasquez, too.

-

“Sometimes I feel like I’m not enough. Like it’s something I’ve done that chases people away. People who are supposed to love me. People I love.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

If Alex was honest, if she followed the feeling that has settled in her gut, made a home, set up shop, then no, Alex didn’t want to talk about it. Talking about it seemed so counterintuitive. Like a recipe for eminent disaster. But then again, her life had already crumbled past the state of eminent disaster long before this had come along. “I guess.”

“Whatever you’re ready to offer, Alex.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for anything,” Alex admitted, palms suddenly sweaty. “But not ready got me here. It got me the mess you get to deal with.”

“At least you get the couch.”

Alex snorted, “Exactly. I’d have left long ago if you didn’t have the couch.”

“It is an amazing couch.”

“Faux leather,” Alex mumbled, ignoring the slightly puzzled expression that blossomed on the face of her therapist, “It was cold - rainy,” it felt like the opening monologue to a sappy drama: the tragedy of her life, “And I’d just spent the last two hours searching through the woods. I’d found the perfect flowers. I was proud of them. Excited to share them. But my mother didn’t share my enthusiasm. I remember her lips, downturned: I’d been gone too long, become too muddy, and listened too poorly.” Wishing for the umpteenth time that the room would have windows, Alex settled for tracing lines in stucco, “I was four.”

-

The sabbatical was a long time coming.

For years, Alex had plowed through. Hoped for the best. Hoped to be the exception not the norm. But facts didn’t lie and without a plan, by default, Alex had followed the norm. Wishing was never a strategy. Not a good one anyways.

Phen was grateful. It meant more time with him. More walks. Vasquez had said he was odd that way. He loved his lead. Loved his walks. Loved navigating Alex through God knows what to get to God knows where.

At least he still hated people, Alex mused as they avoided the seventh human being set on oohing and awing over a cute cat in his lead and his disheveled owner.

As their walk came to an end, Alex crouched down, holding her palm open and angled towards him. It was a trick she had been working on, “Awesome Phen! High paw!” Of course, unlike Alex, Phen refused to subscribe to norms. Or rather, what could possibly be normal about having a cat high paw.

No, instead what would Phen do? Phen would lung. Head always connecting hard with her chest. Most of the time, Alex caught him. Sometimes, Alex fell. Regardless of how, it always made her laugh, rich and obnoxious.

-

Starfished, Alex allowed her eyes to roam the smooth surface above her.

“Phen?”

The cat offered a half-hearted meow, caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

“Thank you,” it felt stupid. Confessing thanks to a feline who hadn’t always been a part of her life. To something that couldn’t speak in return; offer thought or commentary. But this small bundle of life had been the gift she never asked for and Alex was grateful. No matter how crazy it might seem.

-

“When I lost my dad, I never thought my heart could ever hurt that much again.”

Alex basked in the silence, hunched over onto her side with her feet still planted on the ground. Hardly comfortable. But maybe that was the point. None of this was comfortable, why should her seat be?

“I sense a but.”

“Heh, yeah, but,” Alex said sardonically, “Then my mother refused to acknowledge me when I admitted to her I was gay. The last straw of disappointment I guess. Broke the proverbial camel’s back. Then she left. I guess I can’t really blame her,” Alex motioned to her pitiful form, “Who wouldn’t? But I’m getting better.” Alex amended, licking at her suddenly dry lips. “Sort of. I’m trying.”

“You are. And I’m proud of you, Alex.”

Alex imagined it was a paid response. Part of the job, the make people better part. But a part of Alex couldn’t help but feel the sincerity behind the words and without permission her chest clenched and her eyes burned. Words didn’t exist, but Alex managed some mangled form of nonverbal thanks: thank you for being proud of me; thank you for being here with me; thank you for helping me become something again.

-

The phone rang.

“Danvers,” Alex answered mid french toast flip. It wasn’t that Alex was overly fond of the breakfast food. Rather, she was tired of eggs, toast and a side of cut fruit.

Habits were a powerful thing and when she had struggled most, Alex found the patterns of her habits abusive; destructive.

Among other things, food had become the option that Alex had learned to forgo rather than partake. It had left her fatigued, delirious, and in its place stood alcohol, cigarettes, drugs and a lifestyle Alex could barely recognize.

Before the therapist had been the hospitalization: the breaking point Alex never thought she could reach. Therapy had been the agreed terms of release and while Alex had wanted nothing more than to remain in ignorance, something had to give. She was tired of pretending.

She had help; creating structure, creating change. It was simple and yet nothing about it was simple. Everyday Alex had to choose. Choose to take one more step.

The diet was scheduled, preplanned and simple and it became one of many plans; many habits.

The habits made it easier. They gave Alex the consistency she felt her life always seemed to lack.

“Dr. Danvers, you’ll never believe it. The diagnostics equipment here-”

Sliding the toast off and onto the plain ceramic plate - two slices and small bowl of yogurt Alex had found in the back of the fridge - Alex smiled at the enthusiasm of the former lab student. The soft laughter rung through the stillness of the space and a warmth settled somewhere in the pit of her gut, “Woah, Grierson, remember to breathe.”

“Oh, right. It’s just, you won’t believe it! They have-”

-

“Phen, wait,” Alex groaned as the Siberian darted out from the bush he’d brought them into.

Twigs and leaves protruding from her hair, Alex stumbled onto the path. Barely balanced on her own two feet, Alex missed the figure charging her way, coffee in hand. But Alex felt it. Wore it, really.

“Oh, gosh, I am just- oh, I’m so sorry!”

It burned. Seeped through the thin fabric of the tee-shirt that hung from her frame. Two sizes too big. The leather of her jacket seemed to have caught a portion of the liquid. It made Alex frantic. The liquid on leather.

“Fuck,” she barked, swiping frantically, striping the leather to wipe it across the legs of her jeans. 

“I am so sorry, I can- here.”

There was a napkin - or rather several - but what gave Alex pause wasn’t the napkins. Nor was it the coffee. Eyes clenched shut, Alex began counting backwards. One hundred seemed like as good a place as any to start.

“Oh, Rao, are you okay?”

It was sincere. Always so sincere. Soft hearted. Everything Alex wasn’t.

“Yeah, fine, just-” Alex gulped. In silence, she prayed the way it caught, the hoarse tone, would be enough. Enough to leave it be. For her to just leave. But it wasn’t. Alex knew.

“A-Alex?”

Eyes still screwed shut, Alex felt the presence of Phen by her side, shoulder pressed reassuringly against her ankle, “Yeah,” Alex wheezed, the tension in her chest making it difficult to breathe. Panic attacks seemed a norm these past few years. They lurked in the shadows of everyday objects, jumping out at random.

There was a gasp and Alex wished it wasn’t so familiar.

“Are you- Alex, are you okay? Say something. You’re scaring me.”

When had she not?

Clutching the leather tightly, her knuckles undoubtedly white, Alex supplied the best quasi-smile she could muster, “Sorry. Long day.”

It wasn’t. Alex had only just woken up and at ten after nine in the morning on a Wednesday no less, Alex imagined most other people had as well. It was the lie easier told than the truth.

But was it? Easier. To lie. Lies had undoubtedly been a large part of what Alex knows lead to their untimely destruction all those years ago.

“No. Sorry. That came out wrong,” Alex amended, folding her arms across her chest, “I honestly- I never thought you’d ever be here.” with me was unsaid; outside of my nightmares, unspoken.

“I know right? What are the odds?” Kara asked with excitement before realization seemed to dawn on her features, “Oh! I’m late!”

Alex felt her heart break. Kara was leaving. Again.

“Here.”

Alex jumped at the feeling of cold fingers on her elbow. Raising her eyes, Alex noticed Kara, smiling sheepishly with a pen in hand. The ink felt like lead; heavy and toxic.

“Call me. We’ll grab coffee sometime!”

And like that, Kara walked out of Alex’s life for the second time.

When words returned and Alex semi trusted herself enough to function - to walk, to speak - she dialed the digits that had become more muscle memory than she’d have cared to admit. 

The receptionist was warm, welcoming as always. Maybe it was her tone, or sheer luck, but it worked out perfectly. It rarely worked out perfectly. Her therapist had an afternoon slot. 

Alex accepted without hesitance.

-

It helped. Somewhat.

More than anything, Alex crumpled into that damn couch - faux leather - feeling utterly broken, lifeless. Tears burned the edges of her eyes: internally free flowing, externally frozen. It felt a little like death, or what Alex imagined her death might feel like. The couch felt a little bit like relief.

“Alex?”

“Can I just sit here? I know-” bile tracked upwards and Alex bit down hard to keep it contained.

“Of course you can Alex. If you need anything, I’m right here.”

The scratching of the pen against paper and the rhythmic tick tock of the analogue clock settled Alex in a way oxymorphone or alprazolam once had. Perhaps it was some twisted form of coping, but Alex _knew_ : alone she would fall, a swift and deadly descent. The way her skin itched, her stomach churned and her heart pumped.

Alex _wanted_ to live and _this_ was the only way she currently knew how.

-

The buzzing wouldn’t stop.

Blindly, Alex groped for the source. Instinct whispered to silence it: toss it far, toss it hard. Responsibility swiped across the screen, mumbling into the speaker semi-coherently, “Danvers.” It was militaristic. Detached. An old habit Alex had picked up years ago.

“Dr. Danvers, I’m sorry, I woke you. The time change-”

Alex sat abruptly, the tendrils of sleep chased to the farthest corners of her mind, “Grierson?” inquired Alex, grimacing under the bright light of the afternoon sun filtering through her windows.

“I can call back. You must be busy,” his voice sounded strained, frazzled.

“As busy as an over priced toll road,” Alex mumbled around a yawn, “Trust me, I’ve got time. What’s wrong, Grierson?”

“I don’t know, Dr. Danvers. I keep messing up. I can’t seem to get anything right. They’re going to realise I’m not a good candidate and send me back. I’m so sorry. I-”

“Woah, woah, back up,” swiping her palm down the side of her face, Alex rolled out of bed, intent on brewing a cup of tea. Anything to keep herself present, “Take a deep breath and start from the beginning.”

-

“Ginger tea?”

Alex shrugged, distant and aloof, “I stopped drinking coffee.”

“But you loved coffee,” Kara stated in disbelief, her own steaming mug loosely cupped between her palms, “What changed?”

 _Everything_ , Alex wanted to say.

“I thought I loved it,” absorbed in the hustle and bustle of the passing foot traffic, Alex exhaled, her words a whisper caught in the wind, “Until I realised I couldn’t cope without it.”

The air hung heavy; a mixture of the muggy summer and the words Alex could not unsay.

“So you moved back?” Alex asked, diverting the topic. _Deflect, deflect, deflect_.

“A few months ago actually! I accepted a position with CatCo Media.”

It worked.

“James and I thought it would be a great chance. A great career.”

Sort of.

-

Crumpling back into the door of her apartment, Alex felt numb.

Kara was happy; healthy. From the way she smiled to the way she walked, Alex _saw_ it. And she wasn’t a part of that. Hadn’t been a part of that.

When Kara had left, not a word spoken, she had been a shell of the brilliance Alex had once known. The Kara today, reminded Alex of that radiant sun she had first met.

Fingers brushing against something rough, Alex looked up. There, pages bent, lying amidst the dust Alex was never an enthusiast to clean, was her book. Thrown like an afterthought; read like a bible.

Clutched against her chest like plated armour, Phen nuzzling into her hip, Alex allowed the tears to flow freely, “When will I be enough, Phen?” she choked out, “When will I finally be _enough_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/149908077908/a-journey-to-become-torn-knees-battered-heart-i)


	22. claire 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sobs wouldn’t stop.
> 
> Her chest heaved and she hiccuped and Claire just couldn’t seem to breathe. The walls of her stomach twisted and constricted. There were no contents left save the stinging bile that burned at the back of her throat.

The sobs wouldn’t stop.

Her chest heaved and she hiccuped and Claire just couldn’t seem to breathe. The walls of her stomach twisted and constricted. There were no contents left save the stinging bile that burned at the back of her throat.

Claire wished it would just stop.

_“Hey.”_

The warm body that slipped behind her trembling frame, meant to comfort, only intensified the bubbling well of emotion in her chest tenfold.

_“Claire—”_

Curling inward, Claire willed her hearing to focus on the steady heartbeat against her back and the faint, unsteady stutter too far away.

It was all her fault. 

If she had just learned to control the way it all just was – how it felt against her skin, echoed in the shell of her ears, invaded her very sight – if she had just learned none of this would have happened.

 _“She’s gonna be okay.”_ There was a quiver in Kara’s voice and her body shook like a leaf in the wind.

Claire believed none of it.

_“Alex is gonna be okay.”_

They were words meant to soothe and to assure, but through the tremors of her body and the chaos of her mind, Claire realized Kara needed them. Needed them perhaps more than Claire ever could.

Rolling over, Claire tucked herself under Kara’s chin. The _lub dub_ echoed reassuringly against her ear and Claire clung to Kara in the way she could not with anyone else.

For hours they remained liked that – an interwoven mess of limbs and tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/159938883205/claire)


	23. Earth to Space, hold me while I tremble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s just a headache, Kara,” Alex said as she swatted away the extended hand, “Stop fussing.”

“It’s just a headache, Kara,” Alex said as she swatted away the extended hand, “Stop fussing.”

Kara frowned and recoiled.

“You’re hovering,” Alex groaned.

If moving wouldn’t bring with it a wave of nausea and a fresh rush of searing throbs, Alex would have grabbed the cushion resting against her ankle and hurtled at the overly worried Kryptonian.

“My feet are on the floor, Alexandra Danvers.”

It was still so literal, the interactions between them. And more often than not, when the patience wore thin, Alex would toss her arms high in defeat and turn tide. 

“Pass the bucket.”

“Why?” Kara asked as she reached for the plastic object.

Rolling her eyes, Alex tore the bucket from Kara’s hands with greed, “So I can throw up in it, Space. Human thing,” was all Alex managed before the small contents of her stomach splashed into the bucket. Semi-graceful, she thought, even if the bile still burned the back of her throat and into her nasal cavity.

“Are you sure you are alright? Should I call Eliza?”

Heaving the last morsel of bile that could possibly exist in her body, Alex afforded Kara with her best glare possible, “Fu-” the intent was lost with the next heave and Alex cursed anything and everything.

“Space, chill,” Alex said with a shiver, “Just water and a blanket,” setting down the bucket, Alex attempted a shrug, “I highly doubt… She’s got better things to do than see her biological child sick.”

Water and blanket in hand, Kara blinked, “What do you mean? You are ill. You need attention. What could be more important?”

Rinsing her mouth, Alex grimaced, “Anything. Everything,” the fussing hands returned however Alex had little strength left to fight with, “Don’t pretend you don’t see it, Space. The woman looks at me like I’m her possession depreciating in value daily. Me being sick would just make my value drop even more.”

Kara did not speak, a sign Alex had learned long ago to be silent affirmation. Kara might have struggled with English idioms and cultural nuances but it was hard to not see the blatant gap that existed between Eliza and Alex Danvers.

“I do not believe your value is any less,” Kara offered moments later, tucking a small stuffed animal Alex hadn’t seen in years beside her head, “I love Earth and I wish it prosperity and happiness. You are worthy of such, Alex.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/152026215897/earth-to-space-hold-me-while-i-tremble)


	24. Under These Fluorescent Lights 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust is a fragile thing. Easy to break, easy to lose and one of the hardest things to ever get back.

It was half past noon on a Tuesday and nothing was notably off about the day. It was sunny with a touch of haze and Winn was certain air conditioning had been invented with Californian summers in mind.

Glancing at the diluted brown colour of his once iced coffee, Winn mused only someone truly senseless would willingly subject themselves to such a scorch.

Clearly, Alex was one of those types.

Cautiously, Winn approached her outstretched form. His sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, assisted by the beads of sweat seeping from every pore of his body, and Winn wondered if perhaps she was dead. It was considerably warm and Winn had honestly never seen Alex outside of the hospital wards.

“Alex?”

She was dressed in the most horrendously warm looking sweater – perhaps of a wool blend – and form fitted jeans. With her arm bent to obscure her face, Winn wondered if he shouldn’t find the nearest staff member. Hate might have clouded his judgement from time to time, but Winn would never wish death upon anyone, least of all Alexandra Danvers.

Kara would never forgive him.

“Hm?”

It was only the faintest of sounds but it brought pause to the incessantly gruesome trailing of his thoughts.

“Are you dead?”

It wasn’t his finest choice of words and it earned him the oddest of chuckles. Perhaps it was the delirium of the heat, addling his senses to the point of mirage, but Alex did not hm or chortle. If Alex hm’ed or chortled than Winn could draw and Winn could not draw.

“Dead? That seems a bit extreme doesn’t it?”

At least this mirage was conversational – a far cry from the Alexandra Danvers he had come to know, all onion layers and less than forthcoming.

“So does lying outside in a heat wave wearing that.”

“I get cold flashes.”

Sucking on his straw, Winn was now more than certain this was a product of his heat addled mind. Who even got cold flashes?

“Many people do. Some argue it can be triggered by stress or anxiety. The symptoms range from select segments to the body in its entirety. Individuals may suffer chronic or acute symptoms.”

But then again, chronic and acute were words not even a heat addled brain could conjure. Blinking owlishly, Winn refrained from prodding the figure before him.

“Alex?”

“Hm?”

The contents of his drink drained on his last guzzle, Winn sighed. If only the skies might have opened and some unforeseen rain God might smote him. But that would take belief and Winn didn’t believe in rain Gods or smiting. It seemed violent and really?

“I’m not imagining this, am I?”

“Go inside, Winn. Kara would hate me even more if you suffered heat stroke on my behalf.”

Rising to his feet, Winn felt hesitant.

If this truly wasn’t a hallucination then this was the most Alex had ever spoken to him. It left a gaping hole somewhere in his chest where he imagined cold iced coffee might be nice and it left him wanting more. But maybe Alex was right and whether Kara hated Alex more, he needed air conditioning.

“Okay. But uhh… cold flashes or whatever aside, come inside soon ‘kay? If Kara would hate you then she would kill me.”

* * *

“Did you always want to act, Winn?”

Acting was never a vocation Winn grew up envisioning.

When he had been young it was gizmos and gadgets, fascinated by the way the tap of his finger could produce an outcome. Some said computer technician, others said video game creator. Regardless of title, each pointed him to a school, a class, a program, claiming it would “one day help”.

It had been his intention – to follow their prodding suggestions. To follow the script they had created for him, to pursue his passion. Acting had truly been an accident, not remotely a passion.

“Hardly.”

The snort was unintended.

“I always thought I’d be playing video games. Maybe be an IT guy. Not the creepy kind. You?”

Buoyed by a mountain of pillows Winn had never before seen, Kara seemed infinitesimal, swallowed by a sea of physical comfort and mental discord. 

“Maybe? Not really.”

There was a flicker of pain that throbbed beneath the surface. It was difficult to say whether its cause was the by-product of the accident or ever present - just deep enough, masked by the warmest of smiles - that Winn had simply never noticed.

“I always loved singing. I started singing.”

It had been her work in a small off Broadway piece that Winn had first noticed. Her singing had been remarkable and her kindness a breath of fresh air. It had been months later when a script reading formally brought Kara into his life, all smiles and brightness.

“But it was never something… I mean my parents both had such profound careers and well I… I just wanted to be with Alex. I imagined a life and growing old together and… and…”

In the tremors, it felt like broken dreams. In the tears, broken memories drowned. Winn saw the fading glimmer of a once brilliant star: hopeful, wishful, and so utterly in love.

“Alex was always just so brilliant. When I struggled to speak English, she learned Kryptonian. She never made fun of my lisp or my confusion around all these little English nuances. I guess, I just thought, it would always be her and I and one day we’d have a little boy and a little girl.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Winn caught movement. Alex stood uneasily outside. He guessed she had never meant to overhear and Winn wanted to ask if she too felt hospitals were far too small and all too intrusive. But there was Kara and her broken aspirations.

And there was Alex, crestfallen.

“At least it wasn’t plumbing. That’d be a pretty shitty thing.”

* * * 

Kids were not something Winn would say he excelled with.

They were unpredictable and spoke far too many blunt truths that it made Winn squirm in his skin. For the sake of his fans, he had learned to plaster on a face over the discomfort and it had earned him the approving nod of parents Winn would never know. 

But he never would have guessed that Alexandra Danvers was some sort of child whisperer, all full smiles and robust laughter. He supposed he was never supposed to know. Pediatrics was on the opposite end of the hospital from long term recovery and Winn rarely strayed.

Until today.

“The kids love her.”

Kathy, a nurse Winn vaguely recognized, uttered from his side all breathy and equally awed. Like the way Alex animatedly read to the gaggle of children was a nebula, brush stroked in human form.

It was terrifyingly captivating.

Winn deliberated if maybe this was what Kara had always known, had always loved. Maybe this was the child Eliza Danvers had backhandedly praised.

“Does she come here often?”

Like a proud parent, Winn watched Kathy beam, bright and triumphant.

“Girl always seems to end up here. You’d think they were all her own. You don’t get that much. People like her, making the effort.”

It was a broad brushstroke and Winn wondered if this was how others felt when his half regurgitated thoughts spewed out; lumpy with some liquid like consistency.

“People like her?”

Kathy was all smiles. The light tap against his elbow felt both reassuring and perplexing. Like a tap of kind pity. Like Winn was supposed to have known.

“Oh honey, you know, the big wig kind. The suits that sign the cheques and only show up for the pictures? That girl should have the whole pediatrics and cardiac unit named after her!”

None of it made sense and the words Kathy spoke as she parted offered little comfort.

* * *

“Kara, please, let me help.”

Inside the room, Winn heard the shuffling of sheets and groans of pain.

“No.”

It was angry, laced with venom and every bit stubborn.

“Okay. You don’t trust me. I get it. Soon, you’ll be all healed and you won’t need anyone and when that time comes, you’ll go back. I get it. But for now, please. Let. Me. Help.”

Every turn in this hospital held secrets and whispered conversations and Winn wondered when it would all stop feeling so insensitive. When life would go back and this chapter could be just that, a chapter.

Something of the past.

“If you got it, you never would have run off. If you got it, you never would have left. What, when things got tough it was okay for you to go gallivanting off but I’m just supposed to accept your help now that you’re back? What do you think this is, Alex?”

But maybe that was sweeping it under the rug. Because this kind of hurt wouldn’t just mend the moment Kara left through the sliding front doors. This kind of hurt couldn’t be erased by the bright lights of stardom or the affection of adoring fans.

“Okay.”

It sounded deflated – defeated. It sounded every bit like how Winn imagined Alex would have sounded, shoulders drooped, under the haranguing outline of Eliza Danvers. Had she dared to speak.

“Heh, is that it?”

Winn had never heard the sarcasm, so thick it felt tangible, wafting through the air. Sarcasm had never been a manner of treatment Kara had been fond of. It was cutting - a pocket of joy at the expense of another.

It always cost someone, Kara had explained.

“And what would you have me do, Kara? You won’t allow me to help and if I were to leave, it’d be condemnation. Am I just supposed to watch you suffer? Is that it?”

But Winn wasn’t sure who it had costed more, because he was certain both sounded distressed, fragmented, and all together unsure how to navigate the space that existed between them.

“I… I don’t know.”

* * * 

“Why did you do it?”

It was odd, to watch such tenderness exuding from Alexandra Danvers, and lost in the overwhelming confusion of the matter it had slipped. But Winn would be lying if he said it hadn’t crossed his mind often. It was all he seemed to gravitate towards in the presence of the other woman or in the lurking uncertainty in everything that was Kara.

“You’ll have to elaborate. I don’t read minds.”

Hung from her back like a living, breathing, human embodiment of a koala, was a small girl. Sam.

“Like Professor X!”

Winn couldn’t help the smile that crept to the corners of his lips. It stole from Alex the rough exterior and the darkened undertone to her words. It lifted the corners of her lips and the words Winn might have struggled to form under the intent gaze oozed like liquid.

“Leave.”

But it appeared there was no permanent cure for the Kara sized hole that gaped in the chest of Alexandra Danvers.

“If you’re searching for cause to complete the narrative of an Aristolelian heroine, Mr. Schott, I have nothing for you. But I suppose that wouldn’t matter because you’ve already formed the script, haven’t you? Shaped the narrative and condemned me to its fate?”

The doors to the ward opened and any remaining words grew lost in the cries of jubilance of the young children returning. Each greeted Alex and her koala like companion with a hug and excited chatter of tales and the adventures of the morning.

Slipping back, Winn frowned.

Whether it was from the lack of forward response or the implication of an already painted tale and the prodding for affirmation, Winn wasn’t sure.

* * *

Kara was with the doctors.

A few tests. Nothing serious. But it made his heart climb into his throat and his skin crawl. Waiting felt unmanageable and so Winn allowed his feet to carry him up and down the hospital halls.

Pediatrics was off limits.

His penchant for children hadn’t miraculously shifted and his previous interaction with Alex had left the most unsavoury of tastes lingering in his mouth. It wasn’t that he was avoiding her, except he was.

It was half a dozen twists and turns until anything overly notable appeared. Hung on the wall were a set of plaques – a wall dedicated to the hospital donors.

The splashes of colour emblazoned in golds or silvers - or whatever shiny looking metal it was - felt alien in the sterility of the hall and the calls overhead. His conversation with Kathy hung heavy on his mind – of big wigs and suits. 

The three plaque monologue dedicated to the Aurora Organization made sense. It explained the familiarity. It explained the assistance and the above and beyond measures. It explained the room Alex slipped away to, clearly never meant for her.

But how had Eliza Danvers never known?

How had Kara never heard?

As a code blue echoed through the speaker above, Winn wondered how Alex had maintained such anonymity in a world that painted her face across plaques.

*

The notice of Kara’s release brought with it a certain kind of fanatical.

Lucy poured over the final details: security, paparazzi control, release forms. It was a list that never seemed to end and it made his eyes turn cross. But Lucy held a composure that rolled off in waves and caught like a cold. It soothed the nerves in a way Winn always imagined sedation would.

But leaving meant uncertainty, namely the uncertainty called Alexandra Danvers.

Nearly three months had passed and Winn wasn’t any more certain on his stance surrounding the woman. Instances scattered across a spectrum with no foreseeable ends. It left questions and holes and nothing made any more sense than that first moment when Alex had sat rigid and unmoving under the fluorescent lighting.

Alex was still as much the enigma.

And yet, none of that mattered. Because Alex was never the enigma of his life nor was she the reference or the defining feature, it would always be Kara. Kara’s choice: a choice neither Winn nor Lucy knew.

But what Winn knew was that what they had existed in the most intangible of ways, paper thin and shaking like a leaf in the wind. It existed under the guise and security the hospital walls afforded and far from the reach of flashing lights and public scrutiny.

If it was a choice for Kara, it was equally a choice for Alex.

* * *

Traffic was a mess. It was backed up every which way and where Winn had aimed to be hours ahead of schedule, he felt himself stumbling in just on the wire.

Lucy stood outside and Winn heard the faint sound of voices.

There was no explanation, only his disheveled state and the freedom of his imagination. It wasn’t loud enough and the words weren’t clear enough and catching the sympathetic regard of Lucy, Winn knew it had been that way from the start.

When the door finally opened, and Alex emerged, Winn caught the red brimmed eyes and all too defeated look. It felt heavy – suffocating – and all too final.

Like goodbye.

And as Kara was wheeled to the exit, where security was tight and not a camera was to be seen, Winn wondered if that was it. That true love and happy ending didn’t exist.

Then again, Winn wasn’t sure just what true love and happy endings meant and maybe, just maybe, this was it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/161202012361/under-these-fluorescent-lights-4)


	25. consume me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If love were a choice, you imagine it might hurt much less.

If love were a choice, you imagine it might hurt much less. 

“You’re staring.” 

Late at night, the ache in your chest would settle and the burning sensation building behind your eyes would fail to exist. Exhausting nights would fade and the drudgery of another day would be nothing more than an illusion, carved out of your nightmares and vivid imagination. 

“It’s odd.”

But then, you remember, with the faintest brush of skin or the half crooked smile, love is hardly a choice and it settles in your chest like an explosion, devastating. 

It leaves you feeling broken. A fragment of who you once were. 

“Sometimes, I feel like you’re lost; caught in another world I’ll never be able to see.”

Perhaps, lost is accurate. Lost in a love that aches, that is wrapped in thorns and bleeds you like a cut, serrated and dire. But lost denotes an unspoken hope, lacking in direction and purpose; mendable. 

Nothing about this feels mendable. 

“Why do you do that?”

Consumed: you feel consumed. Encompassed by a love that feels endless, incapable of containment and ballooning in your chest. It pushes against your ribs, caged, but not indefinitely as it seeps into your bones like a poison.

And so love is a poison, unwanted and cataclysmic. It consumes you without abandon and you wonder when it will lay waste to what remains. You hope soon because the way you love _burns_.

“Leave me like that?”

You imagine every truth. How it feels like a prison with no key - inescapable. How it stretches on - indefinitely. How if it were another world, it would be hell, and it is all because of this love you feel. Feel for them.

Instead, you speak every lie. 

“Sorry. Long day.”

And as they hum, you hope it will suffice. Long enough until this love consumes you from the inside out and you lie in waste, dust beneath their feet.

Because love is not a choice and this love will be your undoing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the original post


	26. change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say that change is inevitable.

They say that change is inevitable.

It exceeds the scope of humankind, a mere drop in a sea that stretches far beyond the reach of this galaxy. It ebbs and flows, unending, as humankind struggles to breathe. It never yields, unshakeable by the pride of humanity.

It should bring you comfort, wash your sorrows, and embrace you like a mother’s loving arms. Instead, all you feel is a pain. It lingers, trapped deep in your veins, like a fiery inferno, utterly devastating.

“It’s for the better.”

You think better must mean worse because none of this feels better and perhaps if your tongue weren’t so leaded, they would know. They would hear the inner anguish, how it settles down deep and hangs like the sky upon your shoulders.

The human embodiment of Atlas.

Words continue on but perhaps change has settled in and your ears can no longer hear. Not the words that tumble from their lips or the commotion that surrounds you. Even the beating of your own heart, surely erratic, falls mute, as if a vacuum has come and captured you whole.

How time passes you do not know. But it can and it does and the dreaded someday becomes this one day.

“Hi.”

Your blood runs cold.

“My name is Kara.”

They say that change is inevitable. They say that it falters to none.

Some call it cruel. Others call it kind.

It brings you comfort, like a soothing rain, calming and gentle on your blazing inferno. It washes your sorrows and hugs you like the warm arms of a mother you never had.

It dissipates the crushing weight, the sky lifted, no longer the embodiment of a Titan condemned.

Because maybe it truly was for the better. You just never knew.

“Hi. I’m Alex.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the [original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/162007653693/they-say-that-change-is-inevitable-it-exceeds).

**Author's Note:**

> To the [ original post](http://daretogobeyondtheunknown.tumblr.com/post/145260467462/kara-that-is-not-a-word-it-is-alex)


End file.
